


The Firsts Of Many

by QueenOfNewOrleans22



Category: Bon Jovi (Band)
Genre: 1980s, Angst, Attempt at Humor, Chaptered, Eating Disorders, First Kiss, First Meetings, First Time, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-10
Updated: 2020-08-03
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:28:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 37
Words: 51,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24645685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenOfNewOrleans22/pseuds/QueenOfNewOrleans22
Summary: From 1983 to onward, the firsts of many things.
Relationships: Jon Bon Jovi/Richie Sambora
Comments: 186
Kudos: 32





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> My promised chapter story!
> 
> My apologies if this is not accurate.

1983 

**First Meet**

\-------------

Richie was pretty sure he was going to faint.

Or throw up. Either one would be disastrous, of course, and probably ruin any and all of his credibility as not only a musician but an aspiring _famous_ one, at that, but he was getting nervous and his palms were beginning to sweat, which they never did. In Richie's defense, he'd been scoping out this band for weeks and they seemed pretty good, and he was worried that he wouldn't be the only person trying to fill up that guitarist position. He couldn't be, right? 

Richie looked around the bar, and only saw some vaguely disinterested looks that suggested complete boredom or an incredibly good poker face. Nobody seemed to be practically analyzing like Richie was, and because he didn't want to look so desperate, he folded his hands and leaned back against the counter. Lord knew that seeming desperate would probably ruin his chances, too. Who knew? For all Richie did, they had already found a guitarist and he was just out sick or something. That'd be humiliating. No, beyond humiliating. What was the word for that? 

A sudden silence broke through Richie's train of thought, and he looked up to see the lead singer turn and make a 'Let's go' motion with his hand to his friends. They were done earlier than usual, but there was no time to think about that because they were going fast, and Richie didn't want to lose this chance. They preformed every weeknight, and Richie didn't want to have to wait another week because they hadn't played the previous day. 

Leaning down and picking up his guitar case from where it'd been, resting precariously against the wall, Richie watched as the singer walked down the stairs and made his way out the side door. It was vaguely reassuring that he wasn't leaving, because the band always left together, but Richie wanted to speak with him alone before the other three, who were talking amongst themselves, decided to join them. 

Weaving through the crowd, his case slung over his shoulder, Richie pushed open the door and walked into the night. It had been raining earlier, and it technically still was, just at a much slower pace, and the air was still wet. Richie shivered and pulled his jacket closer, wishing he'd listened when his mom had said to wear something heavier. Why did she always have to be right? 

Looking left, and then right, Richie could see the singer standing under a part of the roof that offered some safety from the rain and smoking in a disinterested way, like a reject from an old movie. Of course, that hair said otherwise. 

Richie took a minute to gather his courage. This could be the start of something amazing, or Richie was about to make one of the biggest mistakes of his life. A win or a lose, a moment in time where you could either open one door or close it. Richie could leave and nobody would be any the wiser, or take the bat and step up to the plate. 

Taking a deep breathe, Richie knew this was his chance. 

Walking closer, and debating whether or not to announce his presence now or in a minute, the singer suddenly looked his way and furrowed his eyebrows, peering at Richie's shadowed face and glancing at the guitar case slung over his shoulder, looking halfway to amused. 

"Did you lose your knife, man?" He said, and Richie realized how suspicious this looked. Dark alleyway, anyone? 

Laughing a little, Richie put his hands up. "Sorry, I was just, well, you know...." Richie trailed off, uncertain. 

_Now or never, choose._

Steeling himself for rejection, Richie took a deep breathe. "I'll be your guitarist." It wasn't exactly what had been planned, but Richie figured that if these people chose their members over how they said things, then they weren't a band worth to be in, anyways. 

A few moments of silence met Richie's offer, and it was odd, just standing there, unsure where to look, waiting for an answer or reply to meet what he'd said. Time stretched on, and the only noise was the sound of honking cars and the tiny raindrops hitting the pavement.

Richie could feel it start to pick up and hit his hands, face, with newfound fervor. Running a hand through his hair, it came away damp, and Richie knew that there would be a full on storm in a few minutes.

"How long have you been playing?" The singer asked, and Richie had to take a moment to remember the right answer. "Years. Since I was, like, twelve." From what he could remember, anyways. 

There was an appreciative hum. He inhaled his cigarette one last time and then dropped it, crushing it with the heel of his boot. "And your name?" 

Richie blinked. Was this guy just getting his hopes up?

"Richie Sambora." He answered. He stuck a hand out in offering, and they shook hands like they were making a business deal. 

The door behind them opened, and Richie half turned to see the drummer standing there, looking at them with a confused tilt to his eyebrows, having not expected it. "Right, who are you?" He pointed to Richie. 

"I'm Jon, and that's our charming Tico." The singer pat Rich as shoulder in a reassuring gesture and walked over to Tico, who was still looking confused. 

In the dim light provided by the bar, Richie could see both men clearly, could see the confusion on Tico's face and the slight smile curling on Jon's lips. "You know that warehouse on Niec Street?" Jon asked, and Richie nodded. Of course he did, who didn't? It was a hotspot for kids to come and smoke, trade magazines they weren't allowed to read and share stuff they'd shoplifted in the previous days like little thieves. 

"Good. Meet us there, let's hear what you've got." Jon ducked past Tico and disappeared into the bar, which left Richie to stare awkwardly at the drummer, who only saluted in greeting before following suit, leaving the door open for Richie to take before going over to where the bassist was talking in a low, flirty tone with a woman in too little clothes and too much makeup. 

Before he left, Richie turned and glanced at where Jon stood, helping another blonde, who was the keyboardist, pack up his equipment. He hoped that this would work out, and that the next Saturday that there's be a new member up there. 

And then he pushed the door open and walked outside toward a payphone to call a taxi.

Jon really did have a wonderful smile.

_____

After a few minutes, the group had gotten all of their equipment into the back and gathered into Tico's jeep to drive over and find out if they would soon become five instead of four. 

Jon, huddled in the passenger seat, was cold and wet and thinking about Richie and how his voice sounded, how his eyes lit up, how confident he'd been in that moment, like his whole life depended on this.

All of their previous tryouts had been duds, bitter disappointments, maybe promising, always failing because their guitar skills sucked or their personalities sucked or they just didn't fit in, no matter how hard anybody tried. Days, weeks, months would pass and it wouldn't work out, but Jon had a really good feeling about this, one that he usually didn't have. Usually it was pure pessimism at this point, but Jon felt unusually good about Richie, and had a feeling about how this encounter would go. 

"What's his name?" Dave asked from the back, where he and Alec were sitting, drying themselves off in vain and trying not to ruin Tico's upholstery too much. It was a bit late, but the effort was appreciated.

"Richie, is it?" Tico said, squinting through the rain-splattered windshield in an effort to check for incoming cars. It was raining hard, making it difficult to see much of anything, especially pedestrians, in the darkness. 

Jon nodded, rubbing his arms. "Yeah. Richie Sambora." Even the name sounded promising. Or it did to Jon, anyways. He looked out the window, listening as Dave playfully teased Alec and got rebuffed, still feeling hopeful about the situation. It felt nice, not being to one being so negative about a new member. 

Alec sighed. "I hope this one works out." He said, much to everybody's agremeent. 

Tico took a right. "How long has he been playing?" He asked. Another right, then left. His memory of the route was returning the closer they got, of how it was technically used to store good for a nearby grocery store but all the kids used it as a hangout. 

"Since he was twelve." Jon answered. Brushing away his hair, he turned to look at Tico. "I've got a really good feeling about this one." 

Tico nodded, some of the stress fading away. If Jon felt good about this, chances were that this would be the last time they'd have to listen to auditions and regret it. "I do, too." 

________

Everybody was quiet. 

Richie was breathing hard, and as he looked at each and every face, carefully blank, he felt his heart beat a little faster. "And...that's it." He said, maybe to himself, maybe to them.

_You took your chance, and now they will decide your fate._

They were gathered in a loose semi-circle, with David leaning against Alec, Tico frowning in a pondering fashion, Jon carefully keeping Richie's gaze. None looked happy, none looked disappointed, and Richie had to applaud how good their poker faces were because, jeez, they really knew how to make a guy nervous. 

To occupy himself and give the guys some room, Richie put his guitar back in the case, listening to their faint whispers as they talked amongst each other. Out of the corner of his eye, Richie could see nods, some shakes of heads, a chuckle. 

Jon nodded at something that the keyboardist said, presumably in agreement, and then he talked to the bassist and drummer in a low tone that made Richie unable to hear so much as a single word. 

And then he turned on his heel, hands clasped. "Well, Richie, we've decided." 

What, that Richie wasn't good enough? That Richie was good, but wouldn't fit in? He stood from his crouched position, glancing at the other three, who weren't looking him in the eye. Well, except for Tico, who looked...smug? 

Jon played with the hem on the sleeve of his shirt, his blue eyes wrinkled at the corners with the smile that had overtaken his face, lighting it up like a Christmas tree. "You're in." 

Richie blinked, opened his mouth, closed it, and then- "Really?" He finally said, and Jon nodded. 

It was like a dream come true. It shouldn't have felt like that, they were a band that played in bars, for Pete's sake, but it felt like a dream that stepped into reality, making itself known in the best possible way. 

"That's Dave, and Alec." Tico said, pointing to each of them respectively and watching as Richie took it all in, as he shook hands with each of them, knowing that this was the best decision that anybody could've made. 

"Thank you very much." Richie said after shaking hands with Tico, turning to look at Jon, feeling his heart pound with excitement and something else, something _more,_ just looking at Jon and feeling happy.

"No problem." Jon replied, looking at Richie, their new guitarist, a man with some pretty amazing skills with the guitar who he _knew_ would be the start of something amazing.


	2. Chapter 2

1983

_______

The little scrap of paper was crumbled and torn and the ink was running down, but it was still legible enough for Jon to be able to decipher it and press the numbers into the telephone, humming to himself and feeling an odd jolt of excitement as he pressed the receiver to his ear and listened to the dial tone. 

They had rehearsal later, and with a new guitarist, they needed to see how well Richie did with the rest of the group. Jon genuinely hoped that Richie with was the one, because even in the short time they'd known each other, Jon had grown fond of him. He didn't even know why. 

The dial tone went on...and on, and on. Jon patiently waited, leaning against the table and listening as his mother yelled out that breakfast was ready. Finally, there was a click, and a unfamiliar man's voice answered. "Hello?" 

Jon cleared his throat. With one hand, he pushed away Anthony, who was starting to bug him, and with the other, he held right to the receiver that his brother was so desperately trying to get. "Hi, a man named Richie Sambora gave me this number last night." He said. With one last shove, Anthony wandered off, grumbling, into the kitchen. 

"Yes, May I ask who I'm speaking to?" The man asked. 

Our of the corner of his eye, Jon could see his mom, curiously, poke her head out. He waved her away and pointed to the phone for emphasis. "Jon Bongiovi, Richie's the new guitarist in my band." 

There was a noise from the other end, and then the man started speaking in a much more excited tone. "Is he? I'm so proud, he's always wanted to be in a band. Hold on, I'll just go get him." On the other end there was a small thump, presumably the telephone being set down, and Jon waited. 

After a minute or two, the receiver was picked up again and Richie's voice sounded. "Hey, sorry about that. What's going on?" 

Jon shrugged, despite the fact that Richie couldn't see him. Reflex, he supposed. "Rehearsal is tonight. 7:30 sharp." He answered. Anthony was back again, and Jon proceeded to fend him off, trying to articulate that Anthony could call his friends in a minute. He was always so impatient. 

"Oh, cool. Where?" 

Jon cringed. This was always the worst part, and he always hated having to say it. "My parents' basement." The only place they could practice in just so happened to be in the exact place where annoying little brothers wandered and where mothers came down to ask them to be quiet and where dads came to ask random questions about playing drums. 

Richie seemed unbothered, which was nice, a good sign. "Okay. What's the address?" 

Jon told him, feeling himself relax at the nonchalance that Richie showed. After months of failures, months of searching and hoping, they may have found their match. Of course, only time would be able to answer the remaining questions, but right now, Jon couldn't see a single problem. It was a nice change. 

"Can I ask you something?" Richie asked, suddenly, and Jon pulled himself from those thoughts to focus on what was being said. in the kitchen, Anthony was telling Mrs. Bongiovi that he was being unfair, and Jon couldn't hear the response, but his mom sounded exasperated.

"Sure." 

As if afraid to ask, Richie went quiet, the only sound on his side being that of a barking dog going crazy at a squirrel or something. Jon sat in relative silence, tapping his finger lightly on the table in an asbent-minded sort of way, listening to that barking dog. It was almost rhythmic in the monotony of the steady stream of noise. 

Richie seemed to gather his courage. "What's-uh-gonna happen if I don't sound right with you guys? Like, we don't blend well?" He sounded nervous, but also curious. 

It was a good question, and Jon felt faintly surprised that it had even crossed Richie's mind. It was, obviously, one that has crossed his own mind many times in the hours since it'd first become obvious that Richie sounded amazing and that they'd be idiots to not being him into the band, but it was a rare that it was brought up by the new member. 

"You're not automatically out of the band." Jon said in the most reassuring tone he could muster. "We'll work something out. Things can change, y'know?" People change, times change. 

Richie hummed. "Thanks." He said, right before there was a distant voice sounding through on his part. Richie said something back, laughed, then went back to Jon. "I gotta go, 'kay? I'll see you later, man." They said their goodbyes, and then it was over, too short. 

Jon set the receiver back down onto the cradle, feeling an odd warm feeling in his chest. He smiled, thinking about how he hasn't felt so unusually happy in a long time, and narrowly ducked out of the way as Anthony came barreling from out of nowhere in his haste to get to the telephone. 

"Jon, sweetheart, why don't you come eat something?" That was Jon's mother, popping out from the kitchen, yet again, with a frying pan in her hand. 

Jon started up the stairs. "Later, mom." 

\----

Richie hoped it would work out. 

Being part of a band had been his lifelong dream, a fantasy he'd been entertaining since he was old enough to look at a guitar and think 'I'm going to play that one day.' 

As he finished breakfast and listened to his mom talk about one of her friends, who'd gone in for surgery the previous day and was recovering at home, and then excitedly accepted his father's offer to take him to a baseball game next week, Richie couldn't help but think about how lucky he was to get the part, even if there was still a ways to go before he was officially a permanent member, and also couldn't help but wonder why he felt so nervous talking to Jon earlier. 

He didn't think that Jon had noticed, but it was hard to say without, you know, _asking._ Richie had no trouble talking to people, but when his father had knocked on the bathroom door while he'd been in the shower and said that there was a Jon Bongiovi, from the band, on the phone, there had been a flutter of anxiety that hadn't had anything to do with Jon having decided that he was no longer a good fit for the group. 

"Is there something on your mind?" Richie's father asked when it became apparent that Richie wasn't paying attention to..whatever they were talking about. "I'm so proud that you joined a band, by the way. How were they? " 

Richie took a minute to chew the piece of bacon that he'd just put in his mouth before answering. "Really good, Dad. Talented." He replied. 

Richie's mom smiled and reached out to rest her hand atop of his. "And so are you, honey." 

Oh, Richie hoped so.

\---

By the time everybody had arrived, gathered around in the relatively large basement, it was nearly 8:00 and that was because Jon's parents had done their usual 'Pre-Rehersal rule breakdown' which was little more than telling them not to be incredibly loud and to not do drugs, or smoke, or drink. 

Richie, as per usual with new members, had to sit down with Mrs. Bongiovi and answer questions about his parents and his own personal vices. After being reassured that nothing would happen and that their rules would be respected, Richie was allowed to finally join the guys in the basement, which was cold as ice, and take his place beside Alec, who gave him a thumbs-up in support. 

Jon cleared his throat and brushed back his hair from his face. There was Tico, and David, and Alec, and Richie, right where he looked to belong, holding his guitar, and looking determined. 

_Good. Now let's get this on._

"Alright, you guys ready? How about you, Richie?" 

Taking a deep breathe, Richie nodded at Jon and smiled. "Yeah, let's do this." 

_One, two, three..._


	3. Chapter 3

1983

\-------

_Magic._

That's the only way that Dave knew how to describe this moment, the feeling rushing through him, the unsaid emotion in the air. They were fine enough on their own, but all the other guitarists only seemed to drag them down, unable to keep up with a tempo or missing the beat, but Richie seemed to have been made for this, his skillful fingers gliding over the strings of the guitar, sounding like he was meant to have been there all along. 

Why did it have had to take so long for Richie to find them? Oh well, no matter. Dave would have rather gone through all those failures and have this guy at the end of the day, than not have had to take his way through all those auditions and be unable to hear the electrifying sound of Richie on his guitar. Dave once again went to the idea of being made for something, being molded from birth to do what you were meant to be. 

As he switched key, his fingers flying from place to place, the knowledge of what to do deeply ingrained within himself that it was like breathing- Dave decided that it was a real possibility. 

Why not? Dave had known his friends for a long while now, and had practically grown up with Jon, so when he thought about his friends' lifelong aspirations to be a singer, and looked at him now, achieving his dream, albeit in a bit of a different way than originally hoped, Dave felt a little validation. 

Looking at Tico, how each beat of every drum seemed to be music on its own, how he truly came alive when the music was playing and there was nothing else to do but keep up with the rest. How he looked to be within his own world, keeping up effortlessly without even listening. 

Then at Alec, thinking about how bass wouldn't really sound good on its own, but was vital to each song. How he smirked and grinned and played as smoothly as anybody else, always seeming to be paying attention to something else but always kept up with the music, as if it was a memory. 

Dave had a good feeling about this. Not about the song, exactly, because it was way too fast, too frenetic-good thing this was technically a cover song- No, about _them._ This group as a whole. Their musical prowess, put togeher, making something terrific. 

Dave believed, with all his heart, with a feeling deep inside himself that said it was true, that one day, they'd take the world by storm. 

\\\\\

Richie tried not to focus on anybody else. 

They sounded amazing, of course, just as they did every night, so Richie wasn't very surprised, but what shocks him, really, was how good he sounded alongside them. It hadn't been expected, how well they blended in with one another. 

To his right, Dave and Richie locked eyes for a split second, and Dave gave him a reassuring smile, as if sensing the anxiety that had been building up, now slowly disappearing. Just this morning, Richie had been dreading the inevitable, been thinking that the first second of the song, he'd be kicked out, as ridiculous as it all sounded- but now, here, Richie couldn't think of a better place to be, and he wondered if anybody else felt it. 

Shaking his hair away from his face, glancing at Tico, and Alec, and watching as they focused on their own instruments, feeling a small smile begin to tug at his lips. Is this what it felt like? To be in a band?

Jon's voice seemed to reign it all in, tie it all together like a rope, wrangling each beat and each key, keeping them in and not letting up, belting out each lyric as if his life depended on it. 

Well, so much for not focusing on anybody else, huh? 

\\\\\

Richie sounded _awesome._

Jon didn't exaggerate. He liked to be blunt at any and all times, so when he heard Richie start playing, start plucking those strings and the first word that came to mind was awesome, then you knew, at that moment, that Richie was a fantastic addition to the band. The decision to say yes had been the right one, as it turned out.

The lyrics had been carefully recited the previous day in his free time, singing them carefully under his breathe as he sweeped the floors at Tony's place, and as he sang now, each word appeared in his mind, clear as day. 

Tico and Alec and Dave sounded great, per usual. Jon didn't think he'd ever heard any of those sound bad, or even slightly off. Maybe it was in their genes, or something. That innate ability to sound amazing no matter what they were playing. 

They'd go places. Even if Jon's career never took off, he was confident that they, maybe together, maybe separately, would one day be as famous as they pleased. They would achieve something. Jon knew that Richie would be famous as well.

Jon hoped he would, too. 

The situation with _Runaway_ looked hopeful, but so far, it was just another song playing on the radio, nothing special, nothing new, nothing to get excited about. People listened to it, and forgot it ever existed. It was disappointing, but as Jon was beginning to learn, it was reality. 

Singers didn't achieve stardom overnight, after all.

\\\\\

"You sounded great, man!" Alec said, carefully peering around the corner that led to the stairs. Upon seeing nobody, he took out a pack of cigarettes from his jacket pocket and grabbed one from the carton. 

Tico huffed and plucked it out of his hand. "Do you wanna get us in trouble?" He asked, ever the reasonable one. 

Richie leaned against the wall. That had been one of the best experiences of his life, a moment of talent and syncing. He'd never felt so content in a place so full of noise. "Thanks. You guys did, too. I didn't expect us to get along so well together." 

Dave shrugged. "I don't think anybody expected it." He admitted. 

That was true. Nobody had thought that they'd sound so good or get along so well. It was an unexpected, but welcome surprise. 

Jon came up beside Richie, "You're definitely one of us." He said. 

Hearing those words from Jon made Richie feel a surprising warmth in his chest. It was a moment of solidarity, of five inexperienced musicians hoping for success.

"I'm glad. " 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I endorse good parenting.

1983

\--------

It was Saturday. 

Their first time playing all together was that night, coming up like a tidal wave, and as Richie listened to Alec describe what it's like being on stage in front of people, with their eyes practically staring holes into you, with the knowledge that he could either make or break tonight's performance, he found himself becoming to fear the upcoming night with more and more fervor. That morning, he woke up feeling as if he could conquer the world, and now he felt himself becoming nervous, a little voice at the back of his head reminding Richie that everybody had different tastes in music and sound, and that they may not be as receptive to his guitar skills as the guys had been. 

Tico sat down with the morning newspaper in hand, taking a sip of his burning hot coffee. "Alec, stop scaring him." He said, giving Alec a pointed look and taking another sip. Opening the newspaper, Tico briefly read the opening headline and added, to Richie, "You just gotta tune them out. They might like you, might not, but you just have to pretend you're somewhere else." Tico seemed like the most practical of the group, the most reasonable, and so Richie felt confident in that advice. 

Alec took a bite of his toast. "Sorry, man. I'm sure it'll go fine." He said in a apologetic tone, before looking up over Richie's head and grinning at Mrs. Bongiovi, who'd just entered the kitchen. "Food is amazing, as always." He reported, and Richie gave a thumbs up in confirmation. 

Dave and Jon were upstairs, doing...well, something. The last Richie had heard was Jon telling one of his brothers to stop bothering them, and then silence had prevailed. Said brother was now at one end of the table, chattering a million miles a minute with his mouth full. Mr. Bongiovi was at work, but had still been there when the group had arrived, hurriedly getting dressed and running back and forth, room to room, trying to find his keys before leaving. Before he'd left, his parting words to his wife had been "Try not to stuff them too much, honey." 

It appeared that Mrs. Bongiovi _was not_ heeding his advice.

Mrs. Bongiovi came up behind Richie and placed her hands on the back of his chair. "How are you liking the band so far?" She asked, ever so cheerful.

Richie paused to think of an answer. He liked it, of course, enjoyed being part of such a group. They'd been kind and...like brothers, which was something that felt unfamiliar, with Richie being an only child. He had fun with them, and genuinely enjoyed their presences. The only thing that made him weary about the whole situation was how he felt towards Jon, how even talking to him made his heart jolt in excitement but also made him nervous, at the same time. Richie didn't know why.

"I really like it. It's exciting, and something I've always wanted to do. Ever since I was a kid I've wanted to be part of a band." Richie answered, and a smile was his response, followed by a pat to his shoulder as Mrs. Bongiovi moved away. "More eggs?" She offered, and an excited answer of confirmation came from Alec as he gave her the plate. 

The stairs creaked, and Dave came barreling from around the corner, stealing a piece of bacon from Tico's plate and grabbing his bag from the hooks on the wall beside the door in a span of five seconds. "C'mon, I'm bored!" He said, bouncing around on the balls of his feet. 

Jon, at a much slower pace, appeared and gave his mother a kiss on the cheek. "We gotta go, Mom. I love you, tell Dad I love him. See you later." He said, grabbing his jacket and motioning for Richie and the other two to follow him and David. 

Alec huffed and looked like he was about to protest, but upon seeing that Tico and Richie were already standing, begrudgingly obeyed and just stole what was left of Tico's breakfast. 

"Thanks for the breakfast, Ma'am." Richie said, exchanging a brief goodbye before he was, quite suddenly, pulled out the door by an excited Dave.

"Jon, sweetheart, aren't you going to eat something?" Mrs. Bongiovi called out. 

"I'm not hungry, mom." Jon yelled back as he locked the door with his spare key, turning the knob to confirm that it has worked before turning around and starting down the front steps. 

Richie didn't miss the fact that Tico, Dave and Alec all exchanged looks of worry, but tried not to think about it. 

\-----

Rehearsal went well. It went great, actually. Just like their previous rehearsals, not a single thing went wrong, and afterwards, they all sat around, smoking and trading stories in an attempt to relax everybody's nerves. 

Tico was sitting on a bunch of boxes, head tilted up, laughing in an unrestrained manner that seemed odd, considering how calm he'd been acting. "Poor Dave. He came this-" he held his fingers an inch or so apart "-close to this girl's boyfriend coming at him." He said it like a fond memory, propping his feet up, only to get kicked by Dave, who was glaring but smiling in a way that suggested he wasn't taking it to heart. 

Alec sighed. "Dave always gets himself into the worst situations." He said. 

David scoffed. Rolling his eyes, he leaned toward Alec in a conspiratorial manner and raised his eyebrows. "Oh, really? What about the time when you accidentally tossed a hundred dollars into the trash and then made us all go dumpster diving to find it?" 

Richie laughed, surprised, imagining all four of them romping around in a dumpster, covered in garbage, all because Alec hadn't been paying attention. "Did you find it?" 

Dave grunted, leaning against Tico's shoulder and looking a combined mix of irritated and amused. "Yeah. Five months later, in Alec's sock drawer because he forgot that he hid it there." 

Richie turned, eyebrows raised, to Alec. "How do you forget where you hid a hundred dollars?" He asked, grinning at the ridiculousness of it all. 

Alec frowned as he stood and stretched himself out, cracking his back as he did so. "The real question here is what you three were doing in my sock drawer." He looked at them curiously. 

Jon looked up. "Hey, don't involve me in this!" 

Tico snuffed his cigarette under his shoe, smiling faintly at the amiable bickering that had filled the warehouse. "So, Richie. How nervous are you?" He asked. 

It was hard to say. Richie was a strange mix of confidence and anxiety, swirling within him. One minute, he was sure that it'd turn out well, but then he started thinking about how so many things could happen, how so many people could not like him. He could ruin the band's reputation, for Pete's sake. 

Jon rested his hand on Richie's shoulder, "You'll be great, Rich. If they don't like you, well, then we'll just find a new place to play at. No big deal." 

Dave nodded. "Yeah. Besides, they'd have to be dumb not to like what they hear." He added. 

There was further encouragement from Tico and Alec, reassuring Richie that he'd do great, and by the time they were all gathering back in the jeep to change clothes for that night, Richie felt rightfully sure in the confidence that he'd be alright. 

\------

"Honey, can we come in?" Mrs. Sambora waited for a response before entering her son's semi cluttered room, followed closely by her husband. 

Richie was laying on his bed, strumming vaguely on his guitar, thinking about how, in roughly an hour, he'd be performing in front of, like, sixty people. It felt almost surreal, the closer the clock ticked, the darker it got, the more Richie thought, with newfound confidence, about what he was doing to be doing very, very soon. 

Both of his parents sat on the bed near his feet, shoulder to shoulder, a combined mixture of proud and worried. 

"We're both so proud that you've achieved what you've wanted to do for so long, but we just want to make sure that you understand that we are hoping that you are respectful and smart about how to go about being in such a place." Mrs. Sambora started, and Richie nodded. 

"Have fun, but do not go overboard. Please try to be home by 12:00, at the latest. If you're going to be late, call. And, um.." Mr. Sambora trailed off, clearly trying to find out a way to say what he wanted to. 

Richie propped himself up with his arms, setting his guitar aside so it didn't fall off the bed. "I know. Make wise choices. Try not to worry too much." It wasn't exactly the most helpful thing to tell his parents, but he felt the need to say it. "I'm an adult, they're all adults...none of us will make stupid decisions." 

Mr. Sambora placed a reassuring hand on his wife's back. "He's right, darling. Oh- also, if anybody who drinks decided they're going to be driving, take a taxi, okay?" 

Richie agreed. It was probably something he'd do even if his parents hadn't said so. He was a responsible adult, after all.

Speaking of which- in ten minutes, Tico would be coming by to pick him up, and he still needed to find his right shoe.

\--------

Jon went from person to person microphone to guitar, checking to make sure everything and everybody was okay, ensuring that things would go well. 

Stepping over tangled cords and slipping between where the drums and keyboard were set up, so close on the crowded, cramped stage that there was barely enough room to get by, Jon made his way over to where Richie was, tweaking with his guitar. 

"Are you feeling okay? Any nervousness?" Jon had to practically yell over the loud chatter of the people in the bar and the sound of chairs dragging over wood combined with pool balls hitting together. Richie looked up, surprised, before his frown smoothed out into a smile. 

"Hey, man. Yeah, I'm good, kinda excited." Richie replied. 

Jon nodded, relieved. "I'm glad. We all get a little nervous up here, sometimes. But you'll do great." Jon knew that Richie would do great. He believed that with all his heart and soul, and would continue to believe it, no matter what. 

"Thanks. You will, too." Richie paused, and then added- "I keep thinking to myself that it's just rehearsal with a few more people watching." With that, he glanced at the horde of people gathered around, drinking and talking, and turned back to Jon. "Well, _alot_ more people." 

Jon laughed a little. "Just ignore them, it'll help ease any nerves." He advised. 

From afar, Dave yelled "We're all ready!" 

Richie cleared his throat. "Go get 'em." He said, and Jon said, "Good Luck." 

And then he made his way toward the microphone, his heart beating a little faster, confident that this would be their best performance yet.

\----

It was. 

As the music faded, as they all stilled and fell quiet, it was apparent that their performance had been well received, judging by the appreciative looks given by more than just a few people. Usually, there was maybe a handful of people who looked like they were enjoying the band, but now, with Richie standing with them, many more of the patrons looked interested. 

Everybody was grinning, everybody was happy. As they began to pack up to make room for the next band with newfound cheer, Jon threw his arms around Richie on a joyful hug, and in that moment, surrounded by his new friends, being hugged by this person with whom he had these unexplained feelings for...

It was the best day Richie could remember in a long time.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a bit of a lackluster chapter. I hope you guys still like it!

1983

\-------

It was two days after their performance, and barely before noon, when a certain keyboardist found himself in the position of trying to give genuine advice about a relationship that he barely knew a single thing about. 

Stumbling into the living room, David grabbed the phone and, taking a long minute to yawn, pressed it to his ear. He was still half asleep, and even the sun shining brightly through the curtains wasn't enough to awaken him fully. "Yeah?" He said, groggy and trying to untangle a few strands of entwined hair. He yawned again, and wondered if it had been worth getting out of bed to answer the telephone. 

"Hi, Dave." Jon said, sounding a combination of sheepish and maybe a little amused. "Sorry I woke you." He didn't sound sorry at all, with a slight tilt to his words that suggested that Jon would burst out laughing at any minute. 

David huffed, stretched, and realized, with regret, that he wasn't about to be able to go back to sleep any time soon. "What do you need so early in the morning?" He asked, glancing at the clock a second later to find that it was steadily ticking away towards 1:00. 

Oh, well. Nothing could be done about that, now. 

"Well, I was thinking about how distracted you said I seemed a few days ago, and decided that, you know, I should tell you why and maybe ask for...help, with a small little problem." Jon cleared his throat. 

As if a bucket of ice cold water had been dumped on him, Dave was immediately awake, the words seeming to have had the same general effect of three cups of coffee because, in an instant, Dave was wide awake and practically humming with excitement. "You like somebody, don't you?" He asked, already knowing the answer. 

Dave was a very intuitive person. Perhaps not the most sensitive or articulate with feelings, but he was incredibly good with telling things how they were and knowing what certain people were feeling. It was something he had always prided himself on, and something that he would continue to pride himself in until the day came where he got somebody's feeling wrong. 

Jon made an indignant noise. "Its not wise to jump to conclusions." He replied, sounding more than a little embarrassed about the situation as a whole. 

Yup, he definitely liked somebody. 

Sitting down and preparing himself for the long haul, David took a deep breathe. "Sure, sure. Tell me all your troubles." 

Jon sighed. "Okay. So, let's be hypothetical here." It sounded like Jon was pacing. "Lets say there was somebody, and I had these...feelings, you could say, for this person, and I think I like them, but I'm not sure if I like them or even if they like me!" At the last words, Jon's voice rose a few octaves. 

David winced and held the phone away from his ear. After a moment, he put it back and readied himself. Dave had given advice to Tico, Alec and planned on giving advice to Richie one of these days, now, it was Jon's turn to hear the wise words of David Rashbaum. 

Leaning back on the couch, David looked up at the ceiling as he prepared his advice. "Well, do you, I dunno, get the butterfly feeling?" 

"That feeling like you're about to throw up?" 

David shrugged. "You could say that. Do you get all nervous when you're around that person?" The hypothetical situation was long forgotten. 

Jon sounded excited when he spoke again, after a long moment of silence. "Yeah. And I love seeing them, and look forward to it. But at the same time I get all nervous and like I'm going to faint." 

Dave laughed. Oh, the joys of first love. Such a beautiful thing. 

"That's love, Jonny. Pure love. Now, do I know this person?" 

Jon gave a distracted hum. "I'd rather not say now, okay?" 

David was a little let down at not being able to know who was the object of his friend's affections, but he was obviously freaked out about it, after all, his business was his business, and David wasn't about to force him to tell. "Of course, bud. You tell me when you're ready, okay? Now, I gotta go shower, and we can meet up later, okay?" 

They exchanged goodbyes, and as Jon hung up and Dave sat back, he felt a rush of pride. 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys like it!

1983

\--------

Tico wasn't an idiot. 

He knew, perfectly well, that something was going on, and that nobody was doing a particularly good job at hiding it. It was like a bunch of kids who had broken an expensive vase and were trying to hide it from their parents, but it was all in vain, because one of those parents had figured out the lies, and were just trying to work their way around the actual ruse. 

The possibility that something had actually been broken was a very real one, but so far, nothing seemed to be missing or clumsily put back together with glue and tape, as per usual when somebody got careless and tried their best to cover it up. Unless it was something that Tico really didn't care about and didn't pay attention to, this meant that it wasn't the fact that something had been broken that usually resulted in secrets being kept. Maybe they were planning something, maybe there was a vase, hastily arranged into a rough imitation of what it had looked like before, hidden somewhere, or maybe not. 

Either way, Tico knew he needed to enlist the only other person who was just as oblivious as he was to this situation to help him uncover this great mystery, and that person was Alec, who only glared when Tico jabbed him with an elbow and leaned in close, hoping to not be overheard by three certain people who were gathered around and trying to choose what song they'd be playing in a few days time. 

"What is it, man?" Alec rubbed his side and shifted away from his previous spot to avoid yet another elbowing. 

" _They're_ hiding something." Tico jolted his head toward the other three for emphasis and raised his eyebrows at Alec, who only frowned and furrowed his eyebrows. "Are they? Are you sure, because last time-" 

Tico waved the unfinished sentence away like an irritating fly. "I forgot it was my birthday. Besides, we aren't near any holiday." The last time he checked, anyways. 

They both turned and watched as David made his way over to the couch that has been crammed in the corner of basement, sitting down beside Tico and tossing an amiable arm over his shoulder. "What are you two gossiping about?" He asked cheerfully, seemingly oblivious to the suspicious looks that met his downright contagious happiness. 

Tico and Alec exchanged similar looks, debating their course of action.

After a moment that was long enough for even David to start to get a little worried, Tico turned to face him so that they were practically nose-to-nose. "Alec and I were just wondering about something." He said. 

Alec nodded. "Yeah, we were just trying to figure out if-" Tico gave him a purposeful glance, interrupting him mid-sentence. "Oh, sorry, _what y_ ou guys are hiding." 

Fortunately for them, and unfortunately for others, David was a horrible liar, and in that moment, it was very clear that he knew what they were talking about. His grin fell, and there was panic, clear and plain, in his bright eyes. 

And then he turned away. "I have no idea what you two are talking about." 

Tico lunged forward just as David went to stand, grasping his friend by the hem of his jacket and dragging him back so that he was, yet again, sitting on the couch, this time with a glare firmly in place. "You two are getting nothing, you hear me, _nothing_ out of me." 

David's resolve was strong, but Tico's need to know what was going on was even stronger, and Alec...was just along for the ride.

\-------

They were alone.

Well, not really, but the other guys were all the way across the basement, talking amongst themselves in low tones, and somebody upstairs was making a general racket, so Jon presumed it safe enough to talk and not have David connect the dots on their previous phone conversation the day prior.

"You're a really good guitar player." Jon said, hoping to break the silence that has formed since David had left to go sit down, and then had to resist the urge to kick himself because, _really?_ Didn't they already cover that back when Richie first joined? 

Richie looked up, smiling. "Thanks. You're a really good singer." He replied, closing his guitar case and nodding towards the rest of the guys. "What'dyou think they're talking about?" 

Turning back to glance, Jon shrugged, hoping that David was keeping silent about their conversation. "I dunno. Tico looks really intense, though." 

They looked like they were questioning David about something, but Jon couldn't hear what. It probably wasn't important, in all likelihood, but there was a niggling little voice at the back of his head that was suggesting that it was most definitely something that was very important. 

Richie stood, pulling his guitar case along with him, and looked at the clock that hung from the wall. "You wanna go for a walk? I think some fresh air would be nice, it's hotter than hell in here." 

Jon barely considered this before nodding. He didn't intend to tell Richie about the feelings he had, and the apparent crush, just yet. He didn't know if Richie liked guys, even, and if he did, then it'd be a downright miracle if he liked Jon back. 

But even if Jon knew for sure that Richie liked guys, he still wouldn't have said anything, not yet. It was too early in their friendship to even know if a relationship could work out. 

"Sure, why not?" Jon agreed. He went to go tell the other guys, but they seemed to be in the midst of a deep discussion, and he didn't want to interrupt them, loathing to get dragged into whatever they were talking about. 

One after another, they climbed the stairs, disappearing out the door, already immersed in their own conversation. 

\------

"David, don't make me get your mother." Tico was getting increasingly terrifying with his threats. Dave was silent, arms crossed, staring at the wall but slowly wavering, and all the while, Alec thought. 

What could the secret be? At first, he hadn't been so sure that there was a secret, but now, he was going back and forth about ideas of what it may be. It wasn't near a holiday, nor was anything special in general going on. Alec knew for sure that Dave and Jon were in on it, but he wasn't so sure about Richie. What was so important that at least two, possibly three, of them were in on the secret, but not the other two? 

"You wouldn't dare." David muttered. For all his bravado, David's resolve was disappearing, slowly yet surely, and it was clear that he was starting to weaken. 

Alec leaned across Tico, ignoring the indignant noise that came in response to him unceremoniously throwing himself across Tico's lap, and grinned. "C'mon, Dave. Please?" He begged. 

Dave huffed and shifted away, shaking his hair out of face. "I have to ask Jon." He finally replied. 

Tico furrowed his eyebrows and then, unceremoniously, tossed Alec off. 

Alec tumbled to the floor, barely managing to catch himself. "Why do you have to ask him?" He asked, shoving at Tico before sitting back down. 

David shrugged with a hint of a smile beginning to play at his lips. "Its his secret, after all. Now, if you two will excuse me, I'm gonna go see where Richie and Jon have gone." 

Tico leaned back and narrowed his eyes, while Alec tried to come up with a plan of revenge. 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How do you get Tico from Hector? I've been thinking about that for a while now.

1983

\--------

' _I'm a horrible secret keeper.'_

David trudged out of the house, his arms crossed and mind racing, a little prideful of his self control when he didn't slam the door behind him as he left. It had been what, a day? He'd managed to keep the secret for a day and then he had faltered and now it was no secret that Jon was hiding something. In all fairness, David still had no idea who his friend liked. There was that Dorothea girl, but they were old news, and she was with that other guy, some jock with a fake tan who'd breezed in from Chicago like nobody's business. What a girl like her wanted with a guy like him was the world's greatest mystery.

There was a bunch of other ladies, David knew, but Jon had never shown any interest in them besides what seemed like cursory flirting done to appease the woman in question. Jon didn't ever seem particularly interested in the women, disinterested and vague when he answered whatever questions they threw at him after they played at the bar before they promptly left when it became apparent that, no, they weren't famous yet, and that they didn't even have the dreaded contract with anybody. 

Waving his hand at an elderly woman who was watering her small little garden, David walked on and tried to recall anybody whom Jon had showed any special interest in before coming up empty, unable to remember a time when the smiles given weren't practically painted on and when the kisses seemed longing and not fleeting and chaste. 

David knew that those ladies had only wanted Jon because of his looks and potential fame, and so he brushed them aside and focused on anybody else that he could recall. Like his previous searches, David's mind came up blank in that regard, and so when he sat down a few blocks later, it was with great confusion. 

David was nosy, he'd fully admit that. He liked to know everybody's business, and so in the rare occasion that he didn't know who liked who and what happened to what, it was shocking. 

He knew everything there was to know in regards to Tico and Alec, and though he was still getting to know Richie, he was halfway there. Previously, if asked, David would've gladly said that he knew Jon like the back of his own hand, but this secret was starting to grate on his nerves.

Looking away from the nearby cars, David looked around the surrounding houses and tried to think. Despite his affirmations that Jon's business was his own, David was starting to get antsy to know.

' _Its only been a day!'_

_\----------_

Truthfully, Richie didn't really want to get out of the basement because it was hot and the air outside was blissfully cool. That was only part of the reason, and it was the only thing that Richie could come up with to be close with Jon, away from prying eyes, though a great deal of him didn't understand _why_ he yearned to be so close to Jon. Maybe a small part of him knew, but that voice that whispered the truth had long been squashed down and wouldn't be listened to. 

Away from the house, feeling the cold breeze on his skin, listening as Jon told him about how _Runaway_ and how it was being used on a radio station and pretending to think about if he had heard it before, it was a blissful scene. The trees were swaying slightly, and there was a sense of peace that permeated through the air.

"So, where'd you meet the guys?" Richie asked, shoving his hands into his pockets. 

They took a left turn, though Richie had never been in this part of the neighborhood and had no idea where they were headed. 

Jon tugged his jacket around himself a little tighter, though it really wasn't that cold enough to be shivering as much as he was. "Ah. David and I met when we were...sixteen? Yeah. And he introduced me to Tico and Alec because we wanted, or, _want,_ I guess, to start a band and they're really talented so I was like blown away." 

Richie nodded. "Is Tico his real name?" He asked. "I've been thinking about that for a while now. I wanted to ask but didn't want to offend him or something." 

Jon laughed at that. "Nah. It's Hector." 

Hector? Richie frowned at that and furrowed his eyebrows, trying to work it out in his head. "How do you get 'Tico' from 'Hector'?" 

Together, they took another left, coming up to yet another row of houses. They were identical in all their monotony, the same colors and everything. 

Jon shrugged. "Beats me." 

A comfortable silence overwhelmed the lack of conversation. It was just beginning to get dark, the bright blue of the sky now morphing into a soft pink color. A squirrel was high up in the trees, the mousy brown of its for blending into the tree bark, giving it a camouflage that slowed it to blend in, save for the fact that it was scampering around on the tree branches. 

Eventually, they made their way into a park that was devoid of much life, save for a few remaining ducks and swans that were swimming around in a nearby lake. The grass was wet, maybe from some sprinklers that were hidden from sight. 

"Can we sit down for a minute? I'm tired." Jon broke the silence, directing his gaze toward a park bench that was a few feet away. 

Richie agreed, and they sat down, drops of water that were still clinging to the bench soaking through their jeans. It was a small enough bench that they sat shoulder-to-shoulder, watching the ducks.

Richie wasn't sure about these feelings that he'd been having regarding Jon, and what he was going to do with them. But with Jon beside him, watching the ducks swim around, peaceful as can be...Richie knew that whatever lay ahead would be worth it. 


	8. Chapter 8

1983

\-------

David was walking. He didn't know where, just taking random twists and turns and admiring the same old houses with the occasional twist, like a chip in the paint or a sign that had been forced into the ground with a hammer. A part of him was trying to bide time before he had to go back and come up with an excuse for Tico and Alec, and another was actually trying to find Jon and, by association, Richie, neither of which could've or would've gone far. 

It was getting colder and colder by the second, what had once been a slight breeze morphing into a full-blown freeze, and David was finding himself to be secretly unprepared for the chill that clung to the air like a monkey on a tree. David briefly entertained the idea of going back, but decided that he didn't want to quite yet. He still wanted to try and think about his and Jon's little conversation, which was stupid, truth be told, except something in David's gut said it was so much more than a little crush. It was so much more, but David couldn't quite figure out _why_ he felt this way. There was nothing to indicate anything more, but David just knew. 

He stopped for a moment to think of which way he wanted to go, but took a left and continued walking, shaded by the full, healthy trees that lined the sidewalk while keeping a look out for his friends. David crossed his arms tightly over his chest and started humming a tune that he couldn't quite place but had stuck in his head after hearing it on the radio a few days prior. It was something very peppy and fast in tempo, which helped make even the few drops of rain that were starting to fall a little less dreary. 

David's thoughts soon turned to Richie, their new guitarist and new friend, who had undoubtedly prove himself to have fantastic skill and to be a generally good person. David liked him, and he and Jon seemed to have been getting along wonderfully, despite Jon's penchant for being a little difficult with new people, or hell, even with people he knew. 

A park was coming up. David wondered if he could take refuge there, since the rain was beginning to pick up with a fervor. 

David began to pick up the pace of his walk, tugging up his jacket so that it was covering his face (and precious hair) while he made his way over. It seemed fairly deserted save for a few ducks and a swan or two, who were all rapidly deserting their spots in the lake for a much warmer spot. 

He began to approach, when two figures that had went previously unnoticed then stood up, nothing more than vague shadows in the distance. David stilled, squinting at the two people, hitching up his jacket even more. 

Stepping closer, still far enough away to stay hidden, David realized that both of them looked quite familiar...and with that, he saw the guitar case that was slung over one of the guys' shoulder, and it all clicked shortly afterwards. 

' _What are these two idiots doing?'_

Okay, David could admit- he probably should've turned back when the rain first started, but at least he was trying to find shelter instead did just standing there, talking, while the rain steadily graduated from a sprinkle to what was undoubtedly going to be a storm. 

David began walking toward them, if not to ask what the actual hell they were doing, but at least to walk back with them to the house, but then, briefly but oh no noticeably, Jon smiled and turned his face away from Richie's, as if in embarrassment, and despite the seemingly innocuous gesture, there was a sudden dawning realization and it was so ridiculous, so _odd,_ that it made sense in its own demented way. 

' _Richie's the crush.'_

David supposed he should've freaked out at that thought, but couldn't find it within himself to feel anything but a combination of confused, a little surprised, and faintly amused. The idea of Jon liking a guy was a bit shocking, sure, but David didn't personally care. As long as Jon was happy, and as long as Richie was happy, it wasn't a problem. 

David backed away and, once he was far away enough, set off into a fast stride, hoping not to be noticed and, thankfully, getting away without either of his friends realizing that they hadn't been as alone as they'd thought. David wondered what Richie felt, if he reciprocated the feelings, if Jon had said anything about them or if he'd been hiding it. 

David started back towards the house, no longer regretting his little jaunt to the park. 

\\\\\\\

They talked about music, about their families, about themselves, the conversation flowing smoothly and easily, laughing and agreeing and playfully bickering about their favorite bands and their best songs, their previous arrangements going to the backburner as guards were let down in favor of just basking in each other's presence. 

It was only when the first raindrops became apparent that they realized how long they'd been gone, how time had gone by so quick that an hour had felt like maybe twenty minutes. Richie held up his hand, splattered with little raindrops, and quirked his eyebrows with a little grin. "Guess we should get going?" He said, and it didn't escape Richie's memory that the first time they met had been a rainy night. 

Jon nodded, "The guys probably think we ran off or something." He replied, and Richie chuckled.

"Well, technically, we did." He replied as they stood, the rain beginning to get a little faster, no longer a casual little sprinkle. 

The hour that had gone by had undoubtedly been one of great enjoyment, neither having had so much fun with a simple little conversation about their interests and passions, about things they had in common, about things they disagreed on. There had been alot of each category, but it hasn't gotten boring, noting but a flow of words going back and forth that felt like so much more. 

That little voice came by, so quiet yet so loud, the little person in everybody's head that never failed to show its head every once in a while. ' _You like him.'_

Richie felt a little startled by that, the blandness and the bluntness of the statement, but couldn't deny the truth, the cold, hard truth that always prevailed. 

"The time went by so quick, man. It barely felt like ten minutes." Jon said, looking a little awed by his own words, as if he could hardly believe it himself. 

Richie shrugged. "You were so easy to talk to, it was easy to forget about everything." 

Jon's smile widened a little bit, and he turned his head away, his hair falling into his face as the rain began to pick up speed. 

Richie felt a jolt of happiness as he confirmed- ' _I like him.'_


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, there's mentions of an eating disorder, so if you have any potential problems regarding that, it might be best to skip this chapter.  
> As I've said previously, I do not mean to offend or disrespect anybody, including the members of Bon Jovi.

1983

\-------

The possibility of what might come afterwards hung around like a thick fog, suffocating and heavy, persistent and irritating, invisible but so, so devastating. There were so many options that it seemed endless, the idea of keeping quiet possibly the most sane, but the idea of speaking the truth the most entertaining. If not for the prejudice and internal fear, Jon might've hinted at the truth, but there were so many things, including Richie's own mysterious sexuality, even though, in all likelihood, he probably liked women, that kept Jon in silence, that prevented the confession to fall from his lips like he was confessing to a priest. 

As he lay on his bed, combing through a comic with vague disinterest and thinking about Richie, who was so kind and so handsome that it hurt because Jon knew, deep down and high above, that he didn't stand a chance with him. Not now, and not ever. Not in this life, nor the next, if such a thing existed. Did such a thing exist? Was there a life beyond this one? Nobody knew, except a being that knew all, saw all, heard all. 

Jon didn't like to think too hard about it. Nor did he like to think to hard about his troubles, but there was no use running, not when the shadows and doubt and the whispers could run just as fast. 

Talking with Richie had been like heaven, a time where there was no hate or insecurity, just a conversation that flowed as easily as a river through the rocks. It had been endlessly pleasant and Jon had wished it could've lasted forever, just them, even as the rain poured down from above. They could've gotten soaked to the bone, and Jon wouldn't have traded the moments of just _them_ for the world. Talking with Richie was so much more than just words. There had been an understanding, a kinship. There was ano difficulties, and Jon didn't think he'd enjoyed such a simple time in his whole life. He wanted more, more time with this man who'd originally began as just a guitarist, just a friend, but now had Jon's heart in his hands and Jon didn't know what to do. 

If Jon was more confident, a little braver, maybe, he would've told David. He would've told Tico and Alec and spilled his soul for his friends, if only to hear their advice and hear what they had to say, but he was too scared of the unknown, and instead danced on the edge, weary of falling into what he did not know, did not recognize. 

Richie was new. Richie was this crazy change, and Jon loved it. 

His stomach ached painfully, and Jon curled his legs up to his chest and ignored it, as he'd become so adept at doing. Just outside, the sky was quickly going from bright pink to deep black, and he could hear his parents having their nightly round of monopoly and his brothers were fast asleep and Jon knew he should go down there, cherish his parents, but he couldn't summon the energy to do anything more than lay and think about this man who felt so wonderful to be around. 

Jon forced himself up into a sitting position to drink some water. It hurt going down, like he was getting sick, but Jon knew better and simply set the glass aside, sighing at himself and how _stupid_ this thing was. 

He knew it was wrong. He knew it every time he found himself in the bathroom, the feeling of guilt so overwhelming that it drove him to tears, knowing that every time he crouched down and forced himself to vomit that he was failing his friends, who tried their best and still preserved even when it seemed so tough, who always were there to help him through thick and thin. Even now, after so long of being there, they stayed and had never left. They deserved a friend that was better than this, but Jon didn't know how to be better...didn't want to be better unless it involved losing some of the weight that clung to him and never seemed to leave, despite his friends' insistence that he was too skinny as it was. 

Which brought Jon to get another roadblock in the long list of trials that lay ahead. 

It wasn't fair to Richie. A friend was some thing, but _lover_ was a whole different experience when it came to such a thing that Jon was dealing with. He didn't want that on Richie's shoulders, didn't want to be so selfish as to make Richie deal with this whole mess. 

Grabbing his blanket and pulling it close around his shoulders, listening to the vague mutter of his parents' voices, feeling so torn, Jon tossed the comic aside and buried his face in his chilled hands, going back and forth like a ping pong ball, going between ideas and possibilities and the pros and cons of each and every fate, scrutinizing each and every one. 

Most of all, above each and every one of these tangled feelings, Jon wanted Richie to be happy. Happy and healthy and _okay._

Jon ran a hand through his hair, still damp with residual rain, and rested against the headboard and thought. He thought about Richie, who had pulled him close on the way home and warmed Jon more with just his arm around Jon's shoulders than any blanket could, and thought about his own issues and how Richie deserved so much better. 

It was all too much, and long after his parents called it quits and retired for the night, Jon was still awake. 

\\\\\

Dave was also thinking. He was thinking about this new revelation as he joined his grandmother for bingo, and still thinking about it as he got into his pajamas and flicked off the light, curling into bed and laying his head down on his pillow. 

Jon had a crush on Richie. Richie _may_ have a crush on Jon. There had been many conversations between them in the few weeks that they'd known each other, but David couldn't remember Richie so much as hinting towards a possible attraction. Besides from a few girlfriends, which just made the situation worse, there has been no talk of what or who Richie might like. 

Grunting, David punched at his pillow and fluffed it, rolling over onto his stomach and severely regretting the two cups of coffee he'd drunken two hours earlier. There was a possibility that Richie liked Jon just as much as Jon seemed to like him, but there was also a chance that there was nothing but friendship with no chance of relationship. 

The idea of a heartbroken Jon and a possible rift made David's gut twist. 

David wondered if there would be anymore calls from Jon, inquiring as to what could be done about this crush, this possible, blossoming relationship. David didn't want to reveal that he knew just yet, and was determined to keep it a secret from Tico and Alec unless something came up that forced somebody to tell the truth, having successfully evaded questions when he'd returned earlier that day from his walk with a simple little white lie. David don't fancy lying, especially to his best friends, but he figured this one could be forgiven. 

After all, this was his friend's feelings on the line. There was nothing more important than that. 

\-----

Tico wasn't asleep yet. 

Rather, he was thinking of suspicious behavior and horrible lies, of hopeless evasion from questions and of eyes that refused to stay still. 

Alec was just as oblivious as Tico was, but the other three were in on whatever was happening, and it wasn't much of a surprise. The question was- _what?_ There were never any secrets that weren't shared by the whole group. It was practically unheard of, really. But obviously it was a sensitive piece of information that required David to lie, something that he never, ever did, no matter what. 

He was curious, and intrigued, and worried that it might be something serious but doubting that anything really bad would be kept a secret. 

Tico rested his chin on his head, and stirred his coffee with a little more intensity than previously as his mind worked overtime. It might be something serious, or it could be just a ridiculous little surprise in the beginning of...

What? 

Tico peered around and squinted at the calendar. 

_February._

What was going to happen, a Valentine's day party or something? 

Tico laughed and took a sip of his coffee, a little reassured by the idea, smiling to himself. 


	10. Chapter 10

1983

\---------

Richie wasn't sure how it had happened, how they had started out in the basement, per usual, but had somehow ended up back at the park after the other guys had departed to go and get breakfast and both of them had declined. Maybe they'd gone out for a walk, or had just by silent agreement decided that this isolated park was their destined new hangout, either way, it was a comfortable place to sit and relax, even if the last time had seen them soaked to the bone, and with this new revelation weighing on his mind and staying there, not willing to move, Richie felt the need for fresh air. 

He was sitting with his back against a large tree, the bark scratching at his neck, picking at the grass in an vague sort of way. It was hotter than it'd been last time, and the tree provided a nice shade to shield them from the prying heat. Jon was sitting in the actual tree, his legs dangling in the air, and Richie was listening as he sang 'strangers in the night' under his breath, barely audible in the distance that separated them. Richie sort of wished he'd brought his guitar, just sitting and listening and trying not to think but feeling his thoughts wander anyways.

The idea of liking Jon was one that Richie could make peace with, if not for the fact that he desperately wanted to say it, out loud, and have his friend know the sort of feelings he had. The sort of feelings that alienated people from their families and friends and were considered wrong but felt so right. Richie had felt this sort of attraction towards men before, as he had with women, but it'd never been so strong, so all encompassing. It was an ever present thought at the back of Richie's head, always there, waiting for the slightest lapse to rear its persistent head. 

Richie had found that he liked thinking about Jon, about his smile and voice, about his eyes and intelligence and personality and all those things that made a person who they were, but found himself also wondering about if a relationship could ever work. Richie remembered his mother talking about compatibility and how certain people just couldn't ever get along, no matter how much they loved each other, and feared that the same could be said for Jon and him. But they'd been getting along so far, hadn't they? 

Yes, they had. After all, Richie didn't make it a habit to spend time alone with people he didn't like, and Jon didn't seem the type to do it, either. But there was lingering worry over not just their ability to be together, but what their parents, Jon's brothers, and their friends might possibly think. 

They were in _a band,_ for Pete's sake. How would that go? 

The sudden feeling of a tapping on his shoulder startled Richie from his thoughts, and he whipped around to stare at Jon, who was now on a lower branch but still was out of reach. "What are you thinking about, man? You were in a trance or something."

Richie huffed and climbed to his feet, looking up at where his friend was sitting and shaking his head. "I was thinking about how dangerous it is up there." He replied. 

Jon tossed his head back and laughed, unrestrained and loud. "I'm barely six feet off the ground. The most that would happen is a scrape or two." 

The possibility of Jon getting hurt was maybe a ridiculous one, but in this new situation that Richie had unceremoniously found himself embroiled in, there had been alot of new feelings revolving around Jon and anything that might involve him. 

"My dad's a foreman. He knows somebody at work that fell five feet and broke his hand, so it's possible." Richie said with a shrug.

Jon gave him a suspicious glance. "What are trying to say, Sambora?" 

Richie started to walk a ways away from the tree, still close enough to remain in earshot. "What I'm saying is that anything's possible. The universe doesn't have rules." He shoved his hands in his pockets and kicked a rock away, watching as it rolled a few feet and stopped in a particularly grassy area. 

Turning back around and watching as Jon thought about that for a moment, listening to the faint squacks from the birds a few feet away, Richie bent down and retrieved the rock, inspecting it to give his eyes something to do until Jon spoke again. "Maybe it's all about luck." He said. 

_Luck._ Richie was going to need alot of luck if he was going to get through this. 

Tossing the rock in a random direction, Richie nodded. "Yeah. That's possible." He admitted. 

The tree branch was wide enough for Jon to lay on it, looking up at the sky and the leaves that stretched out to mostly cover the sun. How he kept his balance, Richie didn't know, though he supposed it varied from person to person. 

"You wanna go somewhere?" He proposed without really thinking about _where_ they'd go, just antsy to get out and move. 

Jon turned to look at him with a look on his face that suggested he was going to say something, but in the end, he only nodded and maneuvered down. When Jon was finally back on the ground, brushing off his clothes and hurrying to stand next to Richie. "Where do you wanna go?" He asked while picking little pieces of tree bark from his shirt. 

Richie frowned in thought. "You know someplace?" 

Jon stretched as he shook his head in negative. "This neighborhood is boring, Rich." 

As if hoping to see something interesting that would pique their interest, they both looked around at the little park and the houses with their varying inhabitants. "You wanna go try to find the guys?" He asked. It was hardly some thing new or interesting, but Richie wasn't familiar with where the supposed diner was, and Jon didn't seem to be, either. 

Jon chuckled and raised his eyebrows. "An adventure to go find a diner? Sure, I'm in." 

Richie made a wide motion with his arms. "Whic way should we start with?" 

Jon hummed and, after a moment of thinking, turned and started walking. "Right sounds better." He said as he made it to the sidewalk, and Richie followed, jogging after him. 


	11. Chapter 11

1983

\------

David didn't suspect a thing. 

Eagerly digging into his pancakes like he hadn't eaten in days, talking so fast that nobody could understand what was being said, waving his arms around to enunciate whatever he was saying, Dave didn't think for a minute that he'd been brought to a diner for the secret of what was going on to be uncovered, not until he looked and saw Tico leaning across the table with an intent look in his dark eyes. Once the realization settled on him, David narrowed his eyes and leaned back, cursing his own naivety. "Bastard." He muttered, crossing his arms. 

Tico smiled. He took a sip of his burning hot coffee and exchanged a glance with Alec, who was leaning against the wall and gnawing on a piece of bacon. "David, this whole secret thing is starting to get a little old." He began. "It's not fair to keep Alec and I out of it." It had taken a few days of thinking and pondering, but Tico had come to the conclusion that this was much more serious than what he'd previously thought. 

Alec nodded in agreement. "What's so serious about this secret that we're being kept out of it?" He added, wiping his hand on his jeans and raising his eyebrows. 

It should've been expected, David supposed as he slid further down in his seat. It was very rare that secrets were kept from each other, and even rarer that the secrets went longer than a few days without being told. 

The idea of trying to evade the questions was an attractive one, surely, but not practical, nor very ideal. David didn't want to betray the trust of not only one, but two of his friends, but he also didn't want to upset two of his other friends. It was a position that David hated, stuck in the middle of this situation, trying to keep the peace in this precarious line between calm and chaos. He cursed himself for not bringing it up with Jon earlier to try and come up with a game plan without revealing that he knew about his crush on Richie. 

"I can't say." He mumbled, trying to look anywhere but at _them,_ his gaze intent on a picture that hung from the wall opposite of their booth. "It's private information." _That_ was an understatement, though David really didn't know hot to voice it in any other way. 

Suddenly seeing how awkward David looked, trying to come up with answers to questions he didn't want to think about, Tico leaned back in his seat and thought once again. "Is it serious?" He asked. 

"Nobody's gonna die but it's a very...delicate matter." David struggled to keep up with the proper words to describe what he'd seen that day in the park without actually revealing what he'd seen, that moment of a tentative, slow romance that hadn't even started but already felt so real. 

Alec hummed and tapped his finger on the table in a repetitive beat, like one of Tico's drums at rehearsal. "Does it involve Richie? Because he doesn't seem nearly as clueless as us." He had many theories bouncing around in his head, and he was eager to have as many clues as possible. 

David gave a lopsided sort of smile and got an odd look in his eyes that suggested something nefarious. "You could say so. Now, no more questions." He glanced at his watch and winced. "We were supposed to meet back ten minutes ago." As if checking to make sure the watch and it's tiny hands weren't lying to him, Dave tapped the glass that separated the inside from the outside and started to get up, sliding out of the booth. 

"Hold on there, secret keeper. Who's gonna pay?" Alec held out a hand and looked between his two friends. 

Tico sighed. "I paid last time." 

And with that, they settled in for a game of rock, paper, scissors.

\\\\\\\\\

Jon had never thought something as needlessly simple as a walk could be so wonderful, but as he and Richie walked down the street in search of where their bandmates might be, exchanging conversation while looking around for the specific diner, it felt comfortable and nice, and Jon, who sometimes found it difficult to get along with people, had no trouble when he was with Richie, their shoulders brushing and laughter mingling as they looked around. 

"I feel like we're going in circles." Richie said as they came across the same exact market for the third time, grinning and running a hand through his dark hair. The sun was beating down upon them, and Jon felt a sudden rush of odd affection toward Richie when as the light shined and seemed to bathe him in a bright glow. 

Jon agreed. "Of all the places.." He trailed off, placing his hands on his hips and bouncing on the balls of his feet. 

The name of Mary's diner was a familiar one, but how many restaurants had that specific, cliché name? 

Brushing away his hair, which was starting to dangle in his eyes, Jon tried to look around and see if they had somehow missed the diner during the last three times they'd wandered through this area, but found that his eyes kept going back to Richie. 

It was unfair, that man was too handsome. 

Jon turned around and stared at the road and the cars that zoomed by, a blur of red and blue and green, to try and avoid getting caught. That was the last thing he needed, Richie catching him in the act of staring. 

But this feeling of affection and attraction was becoming overwhelming. 

What had once started out as a crush was becoming so much more, and Jon wasn't sure how much longer he could hide it. Richie was kind and smart and welcoming and Jon seemed to love just about everything that made Richie who he was, and it felt both wonderful and horrible, keeping this secret and wondering if Richie felt the same. 

"Are you okay, Jon? You seem a little stressed." Richie grabbed him by the shoulder as they started walking again, his touch firm and gentle and Jon didn't know how to feel about it. 

Jon smiled as reassuringly as he could. "Yeah. Just thinking about something." He answered. 

Richie seemed to take this in stride as they rounded a corner, debating between whether or not they should return home or continue their search. Richie's hand morphed into an arm, tossed securely around Jon's shoulder, and such a casual display of affection felt like so much more. 

Jon, so badly, wanted to say something. He practically ached with the urge to reveal these feelings, and yet, his fear prevented him from doing it. Fear of rejection, fear of disgust, and a want for Richie to be with somebody so messed up, so _fat._

It'd be a miracle, plain and simple, for the feelings to be accepted and returned, but it was a chance with a slim majority of sucess. 

\\\\\\\\\ 

Richie wasn't sure why he felt the need to have Jon pressed close against him as they walked down the street, just two friends laughing and chatting and joking around, but it felt nice, being so close. Natural and peaceful, despite the honks and angry yells sounding around them from angry drivers trying to get from point A to point B. 

They were barely even looking anymore, just enjoying the flowing talk and thriving in each other's presence. Richie liked to think that Jon liked him as much as Richie liked Jon, though it was vastly debatable and, quite frankly, a little frightening. What might happen if these feelings were to be revealed? What then? Would this friendship, this _relationship,_ end before anything could begin? 

But for now, Richie was content to just have Jon with him, this clever, handsome man who'd somehow become so much more than a friend, yet not even a lover. 


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In loving memory of Joel Schumacher, who passed away at age eighty after a year-long battle with cancer yesterday. May he rest in peace.

1983

\-------

As it turned out, the guys found them first. 

Dave, with his wild mane of golden blonde hair, appeared first, turning the corner and bring at the sight of them, as if they'd just brightened his day. "Hey, where'd you guys come from?" He said, wriggling between them and tossing an arm around each of their shoulders, securing them under his surprising strength. "We missed you at breakfast. Alec is a little grumpy because he had to pay for it, but in our defense, Tico paid last time." There was something different about his seeming perpetual excitement, something a little different about his wide grin, a bit of a spark in his eyes, but Jon couldn't place _why_ it was different, and didn't mention it. 

Tico laughed and turned to look at their other friend, who did look way less happy than this morning. "Ah, c'mon Alec, you're still on that?" He said in a amused tone. Alec dug into his pockets and retrieved a pack of cigarettes, squinting in the bright sun. "Anybody got a lighter?" Was his only response. 

Richie searched one of his pockets and pulled out his lighter, tossing it at Alec, who caught it easily, and then checked his watch. "Anybody have plans?" He asked, glancing at each of of them as Alec lit his cigarette and Tico gave a shrug. "Can't say I do. I wish I could say I got a date with a lucky lady, but I'm stuck with you four guys' ugly faces." 

Dave gave him a sympathetic look. "You got the short end of the stick of bands, didn't you, bud?" He said. And then he smiled, letting go of Richie and Jon so he could start walking with a skip to his step, grabbing Alec by the arm and dragging him along. "Anybody wanna go crash a party or something?" 

Jon fell into step alongside the guys as they walked, aimlessly and with nowhere to go, his thoughts filled with a combination of Richie and the growing desire to do something about the feelings, the need to be closer and how much he'd enjoyed walking alongside Richie, alone in a sea of people. When Richie had tossed his arm around Jon's shoulder so that they were walking against one another, there had been a feeling deep within himself, one that he wasn't experienced to experiencing but knew perfectly well what it was. 

And maybe it was a little frightening, but you only lived once, right? 

Jon wanted to kiss Richie, that much was obvious. He knew perfectly well that there was a strong urge to grab Richie and just feel like it was like to kiss him, to not feel this fear and just live in the moment because of you didn't, there would be regret. When you were old and grey, there were only two options- Live with happiness at what you did, or live with disappointment at what you didn't. 

Rejection was possible, yes. But if Jon feared rejection so bad that he refused to do things that held the possibility of failure, then being a singer wasn't the best occupation for him. 

Pursuing a relationship with Richie might be a failure, or it'd be the best thing to ever happen to Jon in his twenty-one years of life. 

But watching as Richie smiled in response to something that Tico was saying, listening to his voice as he talked, Jon realize that it was well worth the risk. 

\\\\\\\\\

After being dragged around all day by David, and eventually ending up at the library, of all places, because Tico had an overdue book that he needed to return, Richie was laying on the couch and watching a tv show that he was barely even paying attention to, really, because his mind was working overtime in regards to a certain singer and his wonderful smile. 

It was already settled that these feelings were there because Richie liked Jon-or more than liked him. He already knew that something needed to be done, but _how_ and _when_ were debatable, also combined with how Jon himself would react to the revelation. Would he accept it, even share the feelings, or would coldness and anger be the response that met Richie and his words? 

Richie covered his eyes with his arm and let out a sigh, wishing that things weren't so complicated. Life and love would be much easier to navigate if only people could be more open about their needs, instead of living in fear about what people might say. ' _Great, I'm starting to sound like mom.'_ Richie thought, but he couldn't help but think that his mother was right in her logic and reasoning, which was a little flawed sometimes, yes, but always in the right place. 

Richie knew that if he were to go upstairs and spill his every thought and worry to his parents, that their advice would be maybe a little old-fashioned and biased, but that they'd try their best to figure out something that were to make him happy. 

And with that, Richie thought about the advice that his mother had given to him just a few months ago when he'd been dating some girl who's name he couldn't even remember, but the words he recounted word for word- 

' _It doesn't matter who they are. If they love you and you love them, if you both accept these feelings and embrace them, then go for it. Love is a beautiful thing, and it's a miracle for somebody to experience it.'_

Yes, it really was. 

\\\\\\\\\

On Friday, Jon invited Richie over to, in his words, 'Come up with some rocking songs.' 

They'd previously talked about songwriting but only in a passing sort of way, to see if both of them could create lyrics that synced and if they could bounce of each other and, as it was, they could. If, one day, they were to achieve international fame or whatever, they would need to stop singing the same songs and make new content, whether it be good or not.

It was a very windy day, and Richie could hear the wind chimes going crazy from the front porch, banging against each other in what might actually be the most annoying sound in the world. It was barely twenty minutes after they'd first gotten going on writing, tossing words back and forth and showing off what they'd been writing in their free time before Richie closed his notebook, looked at where Jon was, laying on his back and staring at his own notebook, and said, in all and total seriousness, "I'm going to throw those things in the trash before they drive me crazy." 

Jon smiled and looked over at him. "If you throw those things away, my mom'll kill me." He replied. 

Richie chuckled and looked away. "How do those things not drive you nuts?" 

Jon turned back to look at the lyrics he'd been writing down, jiggling his leg restlessly. "I've been desensitized." 

A few more minutes of silence, comfortable and calm in spite of the wind chimes, passed without complaint but Richie now found himself unable to concentrate, the words no longer registering in his mind, no longer interesting in the grand scheme of Jon and how much Richie's thoughts had revolved around him lately. Jon and his laugh, Jon and his voice. Handsome Jon, who had accepted Richie into this band and maybe, _maybe,_ might just accept him to be something so much more.

"Jon, I like you." 

Immediately as the words slipped by his lips, holding so much more weight than they should, Jon looked back at him with something in his eyes...something with a realization, with shock, with understanding, and then it disappeared, replaced by what seemed like deeply fake confusion. "Richie, I like you, too." 

The wind chimes had fallen silent, replaced by the sound of birds going crazy with a series of persistent chirps, but Richie hardly noticed with this new position he'd fallen into. "No. Not like that, well, like that but in a different way, Jon. I like you so much more than that, I have _feelings,_ for you. Earlier, when we were walking and I had my arm around your shoulders, it felt so wonderful but I wanted to be closer and I wanted to be so close to you, physically and mentally. It felt great to be around you. At first I was really nervous but then I realized what this was, I accepted it, and I hope you do, too. Because I really like you." 

Richie usually had so much of a better way with words, but it'd all been so sudden, and he didn't have any time to think of what to say, just that he needed to get it out. Accepted or not, it needed to be known. 

Jon looked stoic at first, then unsure, and then he smiled again, and nodded, and maybe the wind chimes had picked up again, maybe the wind was showing crazy, maybe the birds had fallen silent, but all Richie knew was _this,_ him and Jon and the sudden feeling of him leaning foward and pressing his lips, chaste and slow, against Jon's. 

\------

_First Kiss_


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all are staying safe!!

1983

\------

It was the most wonderful thing that Jon had ever experienced and so much more, in spite of how unexpected, how utterly _sudden_ this whole thing was because this felt like some thing that had been destined to happen, a dream that was coming true, no matter how ridiculous or so stupid it sounded because it felt right, something that was meant to be, like Richie had been destined to be there, like he'd been missing all this time. Which he might as well have been. Jon could feel how fast his heart was beating, how everything else had faded away until it was just Richie, just _them,_ together and away from everything else. 

And then it became apparent that both of them still needed to breathe, and Richie pulled away, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips, looking a combination of pleased and worried, and Jon had a sudden urge to pull him back down that he pushed away. Instead, he reached up and placed his hand on the side of Richie's face, aware of how intimate their position was and not caring. "You're a really good kisser." 

It wasn't the most clever thing that Jon had ever said, but it the perhaps the most truthful, and Richie laughed, looking away and covering his eyes, his shoulders shaking with his laughter. There was a sort of innocence in that, despite their kiss, and soon, Jon found himself joining on, like two schoolboys, cackling like hyenas over some dumb joke that wasn't even funny but somehow hit their funny bone. 

Richie looked up, shaking his head. "That was really nice." He admitted, rubbing a hand through his hair and letting out a sigh. 

That kiss had been nice. Better than nice, actually. It'd been great, like magic, as cliché as it absolutely sounded. Jon wanted to do it again, wanted to experience that closeness in every way possible. And to think that he had let it this opportunity pass by for weeks because he'd been too scared to admit that he liked this man. 

Jon rolled into his stomach, resting on his elbows and watching as Richie stood and sat down on the bed beside him. 

For a moment, they gathered their thoughts. Their feelings, evaluated what had just happened. Jon thought about how he'd just invited Richie over to try and write a song and maybe, _maybe,_ try to sort these feelings out. But now he'd been kissed, and it was one of the most wonderful feelings he'd ever experienced. And Richie liked him! 

All that fear had been for nothing. Richie liked him and shared these feelings and it felt amazing, knowing that this great affection was returned and wasn't all for nothing. 

"So you like me too? Like, really like me?" Richie asked. His hands were on his knees, eyebrows furrowed and lips pressed thin, as if the excitement had worn off, replaced by worry. 

Jon nodded. "Yeah. I've been, um, worrying about it for awhile." He said softly, mindful to keep an eye out for an incoming car, weary of his parents catching them so close. Last thing they needed was to have to explain _this_ so soon after kissing for the first time. 

"I've been, too. I wasn't planning on today, but it just...happened." 

They looked at each other for a minute, as if trying to discern any and all emotions. Richie cleared his throat and picked at a loose threat on his pants, twirling it around his finger. "Could this, you know, become anything more?" 

It was a question that nobody could answer. Not really. But the idea of being something _more_ with Richie was an attractive one, and surely a good one. 

Jon sat up, resting his chin on Richie's shoulder. "If you wanna try." 

Richie grinned, "Definitely." 

\\\\\\\\\

David wondered if those feelings had been confessed yet. 

He was worried that his friends were dancing around it, beating around the bush, you could say, and really hoped they weren't because then who would be the person to force them to confront their feelings without revealing that they knew about the feelings in the first place? 

Okay, he was getting ahead of himself. But David couldn't help but wonder as he and Tico shared a smoke on a windy Wednesday morning while waiting for Alec because they were gonna go see a new movie at the cinema. He was still holding strong on the secret, but there was no doubt that any more questioning and he would crack. David wasn't a skillful secret keeper, which was usually why he wasn't let in on secrets until the last minute. 

Tico passed the cigarette back and raised his eyebrows. "So, you gonna spill, Rashbaum?" He asked, crossing his arms. 

David scoffed. "Over my dead body." 

The wind picked up with a sudden vengeance, and Tico cursed, huffing as his hair whipped into his face. "Are you sure there's no tornado in the weather forecast?" He joked, accepting the cigarette back. 

Alec stumbled into view, shrugging into his jacket and looking more than a little disgruntled. There were stray newspapers being tossed around the sidewalk, little wrappers disappearing into gutters. 

"Of all the days, Davey, you pick today." Alec said, sounding amused despite the look on his face. "Anybody regretting not bringing their extra jacket?" 

Tico smirked and motioned for them to walk with him as he started heading towards the theater. "Lucky for me, I'm wearing flannel." 

David playfully punched him in the shoulder and then tossed an arm around his shoulder. "You lucky man." He teased, hoping that today would pass without any questioning, because he couldn't do with any more questions about this secret. 

Lucky for him, or perhaps unluckily, Alec already knew. 


	14. Chapter 14

1983

\--------

Alex knew perfectly well what was going on. It'd taken some work, and some sneaking around that nearly cost him his head, and there were many times when he had to stop and think 'Am I crazy?' But in the end, the secret had been uncovered and Alec was no longer in the dark about what was so embarrassing or whatever that nobody was telling him or Tico what was going on. It took alot of self-control to keep him from saying that he knew as soon as he caught up with the other two, and even more to stop himself from whispering to Dave that he knew just to mess with him. 

They sat down in the crowded theater to watch some stupid horror film that they'd probably forget about it in a week, stumbling around in the dark room until they'd found their seats like a couple of blind men. The theatre was packed with other unfortunate people who probably had nothing else to do on this windy day. Tico began to take his jacket off, and Alec took the opportunity of distraction to lean towards Dave and whisper, so low that it was barely audible in the low murmur of the voices that surrounded them. "Have they kissed yet?" He said, barely hiding his grin as Dave whipped around to look at him with wide-eyed shock. If not for their current situation, Alec would've bursted out in laughter at the look on his friend's face. 

Dave opened his mouth, closed it, and then opened it, before settling on a frantic sounding, "What?" 

The movie started just then, the opening music filling the theatre with a sudden fright, and Alec pressed a finger to his lips and settled back in his chair, suitably amused. It wasn't that big of a deal, anyways. It wasn't a huge shocker, to be honest, and Lord knew that Alec wouldn't tell anybody. He found it hilarious, above all else, and thought that David's attempts to hide what had been going on were admirable, they were quite terrible. There was a reason for David's lack of knowledge surrounding surprise parties. 

It was clear, throughout the movie, that David was antsy and worried and sneaking glances at Alec, his eyebrows furrowed and constantly moving around, unable to sit still with this revelation. Tico, obviously confused, kept trying to get him to stop moving so much but it was in vain. The next hour and a half were spent in combined amusement, confusion and worry, and so when they were finally back outside, blinking in the sudden light, it was no surprise that one of the first things that David did was turn to Alec and cross his arms like an angry mother, which was weird, because that was usually Tico's job. 

"How did you find out?" Dave demanded while Tico looked back and forth between both of them, trying to figure out what was going on. 

Alec chuckled and leaned against the wall. He thought for a second about how to word it, and then settled for the long haul. "Well, you see, Davey, it's all about skill." 

There was an indignant noise, and Tico threw his hands in the air. Both turned to look at the drummer as he said, " _What's_ all about skill?!" 

The people who were walking out of the theatre gave them a wide berth to avoid the three angry friends that were crowding the sidewalk while having a lengthy talk. 

Alec placed his hands on Dave's shoulder to ground him. "Spying. No, I didn't spy on _them_ but, while we're on the subject, David, did you know that you talked to yourself when you're stressed?" It was a question that had been asked many, many times before, but David had always brushed them off and insisted that they were being ridiculous. 

For a few minutes, all David could do was look an angry combination of irritated and suspicious, as if this was a lie, and then his shoulders slumped in defeat. "Are you gonna tell anybody, Alec? Because these are friends we're talking about, here, and I know what they're doing is a little weird to us but they deserve happiness, don't they?" It was a passionate plea that Alec really didn't need to hear. With a smile, he pat David's shoulder and raised his eyebrows. "You know I'd never do that, Dave. I'm no snitch. They're my brothers." 

Tico stomped over and grabbed them both in an iron tight grip. "What are we talking about? And I better get a straight answer." 

Both of them exchanged awkward glances, and when Alec turned his head away, it was Dave who resigned and gave a weary sigh. 

"Thing is, Tico, it's..." David trailed off, suddenly glad that he didn't have to tell Alec because that would've been a fiasco. He searched for a way to say it, and then glanced around to see if anybody was nearby before, having confirmed that they were alone enough that the people couldn't hear what was being said, turned back and continued his struggle. "Um...Richie and Jon are gay for each other." 

' _Oh, God.'_

Alec started shaking with laughter, tossing his head back and really, truly letting loose, and Tico blinked. He looked away for a minute, worrying his lower lip between his teeth, and then ran a hand through his dark hair. "You're kidding." He sounded a little faint. 

Dave glared at Alec, who was hunched over and while his laughter had calmed down, he was still providing zero help. "That's the secret." He said in a lame attempt to add something on. 

Tico pinched the bridge of his nose. " _Our_ Jon and Richie?" 

Alec straightened up, his hand on his chest as he tried to catch his breathe. "Yeah. Ours." 

They all stared at each other while Tico tried to wrap his head around it. Eventually, he gave a little nod. "Yeah, okay. Good for...them?" He paused, and then added, "Yeah, I'm happy for them. It's just a little shocking." He gave a little laugh. "I'm really glad they're happy, don't get me wrong. But it's just so unexpected." 

David was sympathetic. He pulled Tico in a half hug and started pulling him down the street. "Sorry for the secret, guys. But it was just their business and let's...try not to spring it up on them." 

Alec appeared at Tico's side. "How long d'you think we'll have to keep _this_ secret?" 

The drummer looked up at the sky. "Forever, probably." 

\\\\\\\\\

They talked. 

In the end, instead of doing what had originally been planned and jot down lyrics for any potential songs, they ended up talking about what may be forever and what only may be a day. Just like all the others, it was comfortable and confident, but there was an added stress regarding this new development that was totally different than what either of them had experienced before. 

It was only when the familiar rumble of a car engine sounded from outside that they looked at the clock, and then outside, and realized how late it was. Richie stood up, gathering his notebook and looking for his pencil before giving up. He grabbed his jacket and smoothed down his hair, unsure why he felt so suddenly nervous. Probably because of the kiss. They, technically, hadn't done anything wrong, but it was a little startling. 

But it was good, nice, to have the pressure of holding this secret so close to his heart no longer there. Now, Jon knew, and neither of them had to hide it anymore. With each other, at least. They'd talked about the guys and agreed that it was best to see where the relationship went next before they revealed it. 

There was underlying fear, and worry, but there was excitement and anticipation for what might come next. Richie still felt giddy over that kiss, and which had felt like so much more than the previous ones, more passionate, and Richie loved it. 

He didn't want to leave, not really, but they needed to get up early the next day so they could rehearse in time for the night's gig. They went down the stairs in silence, with Richie trying to pull on his jacket and Jon following. Richie wondered if Jon felt the same unwillingness for Richie to leave, even though it was all for the best. They'd meet up the next day, anyways. 

Richie checked his pockets to make sure the bus fare was in there, safe and sound, before turning to Jon. He wasn't quite sure what to say, because an ' _I'll see you later'_ didn't quite seen to fit the theme of the day's events. The Bongiovi's were gonna come through the door any second, now, and Richie searched for a proper goodbye. They stood there, and now that Richie thought about it, Jon was very close, and then they were kissing again. 

Richie certainly wasn't complaining about that. 

They parted, and yes, that seemed like a good sendoff. Richie could certainly see them doing that again, in the future, when they weren't hurried or rushed and new to this, the uncertainties and possibilities that hovered. Jon, who's hands had moved to Richie's shoulders when they were kissing, were now on his upper arms. "Tomorrow, right?" 

Richie nodded. "I wouldn't miss it for the world." 


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, look at that. I'm projecting.

1983

\------

Jon felt happy. 

Even as he watched Richie walk away, there was a steady thrum of happiness and excitement and anticipation, of readiness and maybe a little anxiety, but just a general want for _more_ , for this not to just be a one time thing that disappeared as quickly as it'd began, because for this not to become something beyond those kisses, to know what it's like to really love somebody like that. But those things would have to wait, and so, he regretfully closed the back door and smiled thinly at his mother, wondering, at the back of his mind, what she'd think of this. 

Mrs. Bongiovi threw her arms open and engulfed Jon into her classic bear hug, her enthusiasm only dimmed the slightest bit as she stepped back and inspected him. "Did you eat?" She asked in an expectant tone, and Jon laughed, just slightly, really not wanting to get into this. 

She didn't know. A large part of her thought she knew, and that's the basis she went off of, but there was no knowledge, real and true, that she knew. Jon had been careful about that. It was bad enough having the guys know, but his mom? That'd be disastrous. "I'm just not really hungry." Jon replied, hoping to sound indifferent. It worked, and his mom clicked her tongue and began to hang up her coat. "Well, you'll eat at dinner, whether you like it or not." 

Jon knew he wouldn't like it. But he only kissed her on the cheek and made his way upstairs, taking them two at a time and rounding into his room before his mom could decide that dinner was too far away. It was a little irritating, yes, but Jon knew her concern was in the right place and that she was only trying to help him. Just like the guys were, wanting to help but not knowing how. And Jon hated himself for that, making his friends worry so much. Which brought the idea of Richie and what might happen next back in full force because he shouldn't have to deal with this, and yet, Jon wanted him, and a part of him, a selfish little voice, didn't care, even though Jon knew better than to do that to a person. And yet, hadn't he just helped seal Richie's fate? 

The sound of the phone ringing startled Jon from his thoughts. It was fairly late, so it could've been Jon's father and brothers, but it also might be Richie's parents or Alec, or one of the other two. David liked to call late at night to talk Jon's ear off about whatever was stuck in his head, and Jon didn't want his mother to have to deal with that (and maybe he liked those conversations, just a little bit) and so, he walked out into the hall, where the telephone was, and picked up the receiver. 

"Hello?" Jon said, glancing outside and watching as the sky steadily became a dark, inky black, stretching for miles and miles in either direction. There was a crackling sound on the other end, and then Tico, who was definitely unexpected, said "Hi, Jonny." He sounded cheerful, moreso than usual, and Jon furrowed his eyebrows in confusion because Tico was always asleep by now since tomorrow was Saturday and that meant that they were going to perform. 

"Hey, Teek. What are you doing up?" Jon settled on asking, leaning against the banister that separated him from certain death and watching as his mother began to make dinner. 

Tico hummed. "Same old, same old. Just decided to check up and see how you were doing." There was a silent emphasis on his words, a hidden meaning that he wasn't saying aloud, and Jon looked down at where his mother was, out of sight and hopefully out of earshot. "I'm fine." He muttered. 

There was a sigh on the other end. "Jon, you're not a very good liar." 

Jon knew. David had said the same thing, in the exact same concerned and worried tone. Alec had said something similar. Jon could fool anybody, except his friends. They always seemed to know. 

"I'm sorry." Jon was grateful that he couldn't see Tico. If they were looking at each other, then Jon didn't think he could muster the ability to speak. His guilt was always there, an ever increasing feeling, but it only intensified whenever he was around the guys. 

Jon rubbed a hand over his face, feeling a combination of guilty and worried and still a little giddy over the events that had transpired earlier that day.

"Don't be sorry. We just want you to be okay, but..." Tico trailed off, but Jon knew what he'd been going to say. _We don't know how to help you._ Jon didn't know how to even help himself, and couldn't blame them, anyways. They were trying their very best, but they weren't exactly psychiatrists. 

No, they weren't. But they did their absolute best anyways because they cared about Jon. _More than I deserve._ "I know. Thank you, you guys are the best." 

Tico gave a small laugh. "We know." But then he grew serious, the humor falling away. "When was the last time you ate?" For such a simple question, it held alot of impact, so much more than just a few words. It was a question that had been asked too many times, yet Jon had nobody but himself to blame. 

There was a voice on the other end, asking Tico something, but soon it stopped. Jon tilted his head, "Am I keeping you from something?" He asked. He hoped not, and could feel the steady pressure of guilt increasing, like a block of cement that was pressing down on his heart. 

"No. Don't worry about it, just answer the question, please." Tico replied. 

Jon struggled to answer. The truth was harder to admit, but lying would only get him caught. He juggled between options, thinking hard about what would just be easier. "Yesterday." He eventually said. 

There was some silence on the other end, and then Tico let out a sigh, and though Jon couldn't see him, he had a perfect mental picture of the drummer laying on his coach with his hand over his eyes in the classic picture of worry. "Yesterday." Tico repeated. He took a deep breath, and exhaled. "Is your mom making anything right now?" 

Jon could hear the door open, and the sound of his brothers yelling their greetings and his father's much calmer voice, and knew his time was limited. "Yeah. Listen, Tico, d'you think it's unfair to keep this from Richie, since he's becoming so... " Jon struggled to come up with the proper word, hoping that Tico understood what he was trying to say. 

"Close to us? It's your choice, Jonny. I'll support you either way." Tico said. 

Jon felt the urge to say everything and anything, to just let every one of his secrets untangle themselves and fly free, but couldn't. He ached to tell Tico that he wouldn't even consider telling Richie if not for the feelings that both of them had for the other and the moment they'd shared just a few hours earlier. "Thanks, Tico. I gotta go now, the terrors are home." Jon watched as his brothers fought to get upstairs. 

"No problem. Just try your best, alright? I'll see you tomorrow." 

They exchanged goodbyes just as Anthony appeared, and Jon hung up so he could begrudgingly hand his brother the phone before he went back inside his room, fighting an eternal battle within his head. 

\\\\\\\\\

Mr. Sambora noticed that something was going on the moment Richie walked inside the house. It was almost like there was a neon sign above Richie advertising that he'd just kissed another guy.

"Hey there, bud. What happened?" 

Richie paused from where he'd just been about to head into the kitchen, wondering if some parents just had a second sense about this sort of thing. "You like to just get to the point, don't you, Dad?" He said, smiling despite himself. The house was devoid of Mrs. Sambora on account of her book group, and it was just them. Richie wasn't sure if he'd rather have this conversation with it without his mom, who was incredibly persistent but had a better way with words. "A whole bunch of stuff." Richie answered, prompted by his father's unimpressed look. 

Mr. Sambora slipped the bookmark back between the papers of his old, battered novel and stood, stretching out his back and giving a fond little smile that usually meant he was about to be all sappy. "You know, I have the exact same answer to my parents when I was your age." He said. "I had went, pretending to go out with my friends to some sort of study group, on a date with this girl from school." 

Richie grabbed an apple and raised his eyebrows. "And this girl was mom?" He laughed. 

The story was one he'd heard many, many times before, just in different situations and in different context. Richie heard his father groan in a playfully exasperated way, and he smirked. 

"Of course it was. She's the only woman I've ever had my sights on. I had the same exact look on my face when I got home that night, and I'm not going to push you about anything, son, but if you ever need to talk, I'm here." 

Richie knew it was the truth, and was grateful for it. As he passed his father, Richie pulled him into a hug. "Thanks, Dad. That really means alot." 

Afterwards, Richie sat down and watched ' _Jeopardy'_ to pass the time, but couldn't help that his thoughts wandered away, going back to what has happened earlier that day, to those kisses full of passion and heat, to their talk of what might come next. Richie wanted to see what would come next, what lay beyond on this road, so much. 

But there was something going on just below the surface. Richie had sensed it before, but it was now, being so close to Jon, just a few inches from his body, that Richie had realized that something waa really, truly off. But he couldn't figure out _what_ exactly. 

Sinking further into the couch, Richie wondered what it was. 


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry, 1984 is coming.

1983

\------

Tico knew something was going on with Jon, besides the usual. He was quite perceptive, thank you very much, and had a tendency to notice things before the other guys did. So on Saturday, as he drove his car to house so they could do rehearsal, it was with great trepidation and intrigue, his mind working overtime in an attempt to simultaneously comfort and agitate itself with multiple theories as to what might be going on. One of those theories was that something was going on with Richie, and, technically, that one wasn't even a theory because it had been confirmed yesterday that they were interested in each other. Tico also knew that they had spent the day before together to try and write some new songs, which was fine, except he was wondering if they had really wrote songe, or if something a little more interesting had happened. 

Maybe it was just his imagination, but Tico doubted it. Jon hadn't sounded right over the phone, but for some reason, it didn't seem like anything had happened with Richie, who was laughing along with one of David's dumb jokes. Richie seemed like the kind of guy who wouldn't do something like that, just have something happen and pretend like nothing was wrong, but, who knows, he could also be a fantastic actor. 

Okay, so maybe Richie wasn't involved. Tico put that theory to rest, but that still left plenty of things, namely the eating issues. That's how Tico referred to them because anything else didn't seem right.

Granted, nothing about that particular situation seemed right. Tico didn't know how to fix it, which was one thing, and didn't even know if he could fix it. Was this even something he could fix, or was this just something that Tico was delegated to just help as much as he could and hope that it was enough? Were Dave and Alec just as helpless as he was in this? God, he hoped not. Tico hated being helpless, loathed not knowing what to do and how to do it.

"You okay, man? You're quiet." Richie said. He was in the passenger seat, looking at Tico with furrowed eyebrows with clear and present concern. Tico supposed that was a good sign of he and Jon were to ever take the next step in a relationship. _Compassion._ "Yeah, just thinking about something." Tico hoped that everybody would sense his lack of want to delve into a conversation, and they did. Dave made another cheesy joke and Alec groaned, covering his face with both hands as if to protect himself. "Will you stop it?" He said. Dave grinned and pat his knee in comfort. "Okay, no more jokes. Hey, Richie, you wanna hear about my new book about anti-gravity? It's impossible to put down!" 

Tico rolled his eyes. He was glad when they pulled up, even though it was tricky to parallel park when he was practically bumper-tp-bumper with the other cars. It was a good thing that he'd left his drum kit at the house to save time, otherwise it'd be a mess trying to get them out of the trunk with such little room. 

As they got out of the car, Dave took the chance of brief privacy to duck his head and talk to Tico. He and Alec had been crowded around the phone the previous night, when Tico had talked to Jon, and it was obvious that both of them were just as concerned as Tico was. "What are you thinking about?" David asked in a low tone. "Inquiring minds want to know. Specifically, Alec and I." 

Tico busied himself with his jacket. "Jon seemed off. I don't know if it's about his...crush or something else." _Something else,_ as in the eating disorder. Though, in the end, it could maybe involve neither of those possibilities. 

Dave nodded. "You might wanna get a new jacket there, buddy. It's falling apart at the seams." He smiled a little bit in an attempt to make Tico a little less worried, but the worry in his eyes was palpable. That was David for you-always helping others, even if it was just an attempt at humor to make one of his friends a little less worried. 

Alec leaned over the hood of the car. "Do you two need a room?" He playfully teased. 

Richie chuckled a little bit from the other side. "Oh, leave 'em alone."

Tico straightened and turned, slamming the car door behind him. "Do you ever stop and think that, sometimes, people just need to have a nice, private talk?" He hoped that Alec understood what had been left unsaid. 

Alec seemed to understand, but it was impossible to tell with him. "The gig isn't too far away, you know. And you two are gossiping." He was graves by the arm, courtesy of David, and pulled along. "You're such a jerk." Dave said with a sort of amused fondness. 

Richie fell into step alongside Tico, probably to avoid the same fate as Alec. "Are you okay?" He looked behind them, and then back at Tico with raised eyebrows. "Is there something I should know about?" It was obvious what he was thinking about, even if he didn't actually know that their little secret wasn't actually a secret, and Tico did his best to dissuade the fear without revealing what he knew. "Nah. Dave just wanted me to answer a question without you guys hearing. He was embarrassed about it." 

They stepped up the front porch, and Tico knocked, smiling faintly at the next door neighbor, who was watching from her window. She probably thought they were drug dealers or something. It was probably a little suspicious, with the scheduled visits to the house and their looks, but Tico could only hope that she noticed the guitar cases and David's keyboard and realized that they were just wannabe rockers, which was probably just as bad, in her opinion, but alot less illegal. 

Jon appeared, looking a little miffed. "C'mon, my mom-" 

As if summoned, Mrs. Bongiovi appeared with a desperate look in her bright eyes. She had her hands planted firmly on her hips and a firm look on her face, despite the desperation. "Honey, I just want what's best for you." 

The fact that they'd just walked in on what seemed to be an argument was terrible enough, but the implication that this might've been about them was even worse. Tico winced and took a step back, "Should we leave?" He pointed behind himself at the car. 

Shaking his head, Jon wrapped his arms around himself and nodded toward where the basement was. "No, it's nothing." But just as he said that, Mrs. Bongiovi threw her hands up in the air. Yup, definitely an argument. ' _This is awkward.'_ Tico thought, not sure if they should all just back away or just stand there during what seemed to be a very private moment. 

"I'm worried! You're withdrawn, you don't have energy. Honey, I saw you going down the stairs, and let me tell you-" Mrs. Bongiovi paused, and then seemed to realize that there was people on her front porch, and that the door was open. Her eyes widened, and she placed her hand over her heart. "Oh, I'm so sorry. We were just in the middle of a conversation and-oh, well, nevermind. Are any of you hungry?" 

Tico shook his head. "No, thank you. Are you sure we shouldn't go?" 

Jon, who looked a combination of horrified and resigned, beckoned them in. "Stay. You're already here, right?" 

Richie exchanged a brief glance with Tico, but the moment seemed to have passed. Mrs. Bongiovi clapped her hands together and rubbed them. "Well, you all go on then." She gave a pointed glance to Tico and Alec as they walked in. Because of the small age gap between them and the other three, Mrs. Bongiovi seemed afraid that they were influencing them in some way. Tico wanted to inform her that David was a much worse influence than either of them, but didn't think it'd go down well. 

Per usual, they began to go down into the basement. Tico glanced behind them and saw Jon say something to his mother and, in response, she pulled him into a hug. It was no mystery what the argument had been about, and Tico took some comfort in the fact that, despite them not knowing what was truly going on, that they weren't the only ones helping Jon in this fight. 

\\\\\\\\\

Despite the rough start, rehearsal went fine. Better than fine, to be honest, but Jon felt uneasy and wasn't in the mood to celebrate how great they sounded, how in sync everybody was as they sung, only able to focus completely on the argument and his mother's pain. He was causing unnecessary stress, he was making his mother and father and friends worry over him when they should be stressing about their own lives and the band as a whole, not their leader and his stupidity. 

' _Breakout'_ ended, and Richie seemed visibly relieved as he stretched his arms out. He caught Jon's eye and smiled, which helped lessen Jon's nerves but not by much. He felt nauseous and was trying to avoid looking down, wishing he could mirror Richie's facial expression and act happy, even if he was hating himself on the inside. Jon knew that he looked horrible, and was fighting back the urge to go and rectify what had been done, wishing to share in Dave's excitement and barely mustering a faint nod when he came over to share what was making him so happy. Jon was usually so good at pretending, and hated that today, of all days, was one where he couldn't be as cheerful as he wanted to. 

"Jeez, I love that song!" Dave said. He was practically jumping up and down, though that was his usual hyperactivity at play. Alec smirked and leaned back against the wall, "Why, because you helped write it?" 

As if offended, Dave placed his hand against his chest. " _No,_ for your information. It's just a really good song and-" He paused once he saw Alec's knowing look. "Of course I love it because I helped write it, Alec. Wouldn't you?" 

Tico shook his head at the blonde and twirled his drumsticks, as if to occupy his hands while he wasn't playing. "If you're this excited now, Dave, how are you gonna be if you ever get to play music for broadway?" 

Richie looked up. "Dave wants to get into Broadway?" He repeated. 

Alec looked up at the ceiling. "Oh, don't get him into that. He'll talk your ear off about it and never stop." He grunted as Dave appeared and pulled him into a half hug, pushing him away without any luck and shoving away David's face, like two kids wrestling with each other but only one of them was winning. "Get your hair out of my face." 

"Oh, you're just jealous." 

Jon watched as they argued with no real anger, and then looked at Tico, who was distracted, trying to see if he could sneak out and go unnoticed. He'd only be gone a minute or two, and it's not like him being gone was immediately incriminating, right? 

\\\\\\\\\

Richie watched, unnoticed, as Jon went up the stairs, leaving the basement without so much as a word after checking that the other three were distracted enough to not notice his absence. He went carefully but quickly, disappearing upstairs without anybody realizing that he was gone. 

Gently, Richie set his guitar back into the case, watching to see if Jon would come back and only seeing his mother briefly glance down to check on them. Richie's thoughts went back to how weird Jon had been acting and the possibility that something might be wrong, the idea that live adjust below of surface of Jon hiding something. Richie wondered if the guys knew and that's what Tico and Dave had been talking about when they'd gotten out of the car. 

With that in mind, Richie, whether it be a good idea or not, climbed the stairs and went to go find Jon. 


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've always been better at writing fluff than I am at writing angst but...here you go.

1983

\-----

Jon couldn't look at himself. Didn't dare turn his head and look at the mirror to see the body he'd seen so many times before, to stare and acknowledge how _fat_ he'd gotten. He had been doing so well and then it'd all fallen apart, like a deck of cards that had been so precariously built and then was destroyed by a stray gust of wind. It was funny, in a backwards way, how fast things could change, quickly someone's emotions and thoughts could change. 

Breathing fast, Jon locked the door and listened for the slight click with the knowledge that sometimes it didn't lock properly and you could barge in with no trouble whatsoever. That would be the last thing he needed. Especially if it was Richie- Richie, who had no idea about this mess, who was kind and funny and Jon loathed the idea of the light in those beautiful eyes turning into disappointment. Most of all, Jon hated the possibility of disappointment out of what could have been. He was already letting down Tico and Dave and Alec and his own parents, he couldn't make Richie feel that hurt, too. 

Collapsing to his knees and hating every minute, but looking forward to it all the same because it was the only way that he wouldn't be fat and so painful to look at, the only way that he could look just like everybody wanted him to look, Jon felt the familiar creeping shame and cursed his own weakness. Cursed how selfish he was. How _stupid_ he really, truly was. But there was no helping it, no preventing what came with inevitable cruelty. 

Jon forced himself to do it, despite knowing that it would only make him feel even worse, but he'd be skinny. Isn't that what this whole thing was about, this desperate need to not be fat or chubby anymore, to be skinny and fit and attractive. He wasn't crying, not really, but there was panic and it was weighing heavily on his chest like a permanent brick, right over his heart, and he felt ashamed and stupid, so stupid, but it was all okay, wasn't it, because sooner or later this would all pay off. 

_Right?_

A knock on the door, quick and light, startled Jon and made him look up, panic turning to full on fear. He could see the shadows of feet from the slot at the bottom of the door, but he couldn't tell who it was, not yet. And so he stayed silent, unsure of what to do, his heart beating frantically in his chest like that of a scared animal's. The worst person it could possibly be was, obviously, Richie, mainly because he had no idea what was going on. It might've been easy enough to explain away if not for the fact that Jon felt a little faint and unsure. "Jon? Are you there?" Richie asked, his voice tinged with worry, and Jon could very much feel his heart drop. 

Jon pushed himself up, looking around the bathroom and trying to see if there was any evidence of what he'd just done, feeling oddly like a child who'd been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. He hurriedly flushed the toilet and used some tissue to wipe at his mouth, cringing at the lingering taste. "I'm coming, Rich." He said as loudly as his aching throat would allow. In a last ditch effort to make himself look a little more presentable, Jon ran a hand through his hair, took a deep breathe, and unlocked the door. 

Richie looked visibly relieved, but his eyebrows were still furrowed in the distinct look of concern and his lips were pursed tightly. "Are you okay? I noticed you left and.." He trailed off. Dark eyes, bright with intelligence, flicked behind Jon to look at the bathroom, as if for evidence that would point out what he'd been doing. Jon didn't like the look on his face, like he had an idea as to what Jon had been doing but wasn't quite ready to admit it, yet. 

"Yeah, I'm fine." Jon said with more cheer than he actually felt. But he wasn't ever a good liar, and Richie could tell. Richie could tell, and he already that something was off. He smiled, perhaps a little weakly, and Richie let out a small sigh and leaned against the threshold of the door, his arms crossed over his chest. "I don't believe you." He said. 

Jon tried to keep his face neutral. "Well, that's the truth, bud." He shrugged a little and looked away, unable to stare at Richie and lie as causally as he wanted to. It was hard enough with the other guys, but with the man who he had feelings for, Jon had to practically force the words out. 

The look he got in response was thoroughly unimpressed. "Jon, you know that whatever you're hiding, depending on what it is...It probably won't affect us." Oh, yes it would. Jon wished he could tell Richie that without making it sound so drastic, but in truth, it _was_ drastic. Who knew how Richie would respond to this, and Lord knows that it'd affect everything. 

Reaching up, Jon placed his hand on the side of Richie's face and gently smoothed his thing over his smooth skin. "I'm sorry. It's just something that - I don't know how you're going to react to it, Richie." 

Richie smiled a little. "Unless you're leading a secret life or something, you won't drive me away." A quiet laugh. "Hell, I don't think you could drive me away even then." It was unfair, the whole situation. Jon knew he shouldn't be keeping this, but he couldn't bring himself to say it. 

After a moment, Jon looked down and tried to come up with something else to say. It was a painful moment, knowing that they couldn't move ahead without this being revealed, and yet, here they were. Richie took Jon's hand in his own, bringing it up and kissing his knuckles. 

"You're so skinny." Richie said, almost to himself, as he looked down at Jon's hand. It was said in almost an absent way, like he hadn't meant to say it, and Jon knew this, but it didn't stop his voice from being unexpectedly sharp when he responded. "No, I'm not." 

Richie, startled, blinked and looked up at Jon's face. He hadn't expected how angry Jon had sounded, and neither had Jon. "I'm sorry, that didn't come out-" 

But Richie was thinking. His head was turned away and though his fingers were still curled right around Jon's hand, his mind was far away from that moment. Jon wasn't sure how long he expected Richie to not notice, but he didn't want it to happen _so soon._ It was happening way too fast, but there was no denying it. Richie squeezed Jon's hands in faint reassurance, but didn't say anything. 

Jon blinked and, with a jolt, realized that he was crying. He was crying, and he felt even worse now, because he hated that, just more weakness to add to the ever growing list. It was similar to how he'd felt when Tico had first found out, and when, as consequence because the truth would've come out anyways, they had to tell Dave and Alec about it. He felt ashamed and disappointed and guilty. He didn't trust himself to look at Richie, so he stated at the floor and prayed that this wouldn't be the end. 

And then, with shocking tenderness, Richie untangled his hand from Jon's and placed it at the back of his neck, bringing Jon closer so he could press a chaste kiss to his forehead. It wasn't totally what Jon had been expecting, nor were the words that followed. 

"We're gonna work through it." 


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We are now on 1984 and experiencing some new things.

1984

\-----------

"Richie, you're not going to believe this." Jon grabbed Richie by the shoulders and, without warning, pulled him into the house and shut the door behind him. "You are _so_ not gonna believe this." He repeated, almost to himself, as he began to walk upstairs and glanced behind him to make sure Richie was following, which he was, with an amused smile tugging at his lips. They got to the second floor and went into Jon's bedroom like they'd done so many times before. Richie shut the door and raised his eyebrows. "Are you going to tell me?" He asked. 

As he sat down on his bed, Jon grabbed the telephone and seemed to practically vibrate from his excitement over whatever had just happened. "Some guy named Derek Shulman just called me, talking about a record deal." Jon finally said as he began to dial a number, smiling at Richie's startled expression. He looked very pleased with himself as he put the phone to his ear while Richie sat down and began to think. A record deal. The next step to success. The very thing they'd been working towards in an attempt to make it big. The name was familiar, of course, but Richie hadn't thought of that name in a long while, back since he'd first heard it in passing. 

"Dave? Is now a good time?" Jon asked, tapping his foot on the ground rapidly and persistently. "No, no, everything's fine, it's just-Alec's with you? Good. Now, have you ever heard of Derek Shulman?" Jon waited a moment for confirmation, nodding all the while even though only Richie could see him. "Well, he just called me and he's interested in a record deal."

Richie could only imagine the excitement from the other side of the phone, their possible payoff to all this hard work becoming a real possibility. But Richie was careful not to get his hopes up just yet, fully aware that this wasn't a confirmation by any means. So many times, a band had gotten all excited over nothing, and they'd been back to their first square before they'd even moved to the second one. This could be the beginning of success or just be some fluke. But seeing Jon's facial expression and imagining what was being said over the other side of the phone, he couldn't help but feel hope for this. A fluke, maybe, but a bright spot nonetheless. 

Jon said his goodbyes and began to dial another number. "What are you thinking about?" He asked while he did so. 

Richie sighed. "Wondering if this is all real or if we're about to get our hopes up for nothing." He answered just as Tico picked up. Jon gave him a sympathetic look as he began to talk, running a hand through his hair and listening to whatever the drummer was saying for what seemed like a full minute. 

Laughing briefly at something that had been said, Jon leaned against the headboard and, presumably, interrupted their friend mid-sentence to get in what he wanted to say. "Tico, I got a call about a record deal." Jon paused as he listened to the response that came. "Yeah. A guy called Derek Schulman, and he's interested." 

Richie found a pencil and began to twirl it like he was a wannabe Tico with his drumsticks while listening to the conversation being had a few feet away. He heard the telltale click of the telephone being set down in the cradle and he looked back at Jon, who lay down on the bed and looked at Richie with open curiosity. "How worried are you?"

Shrugging, Richie spinned slightly in the office chair he was sitting in, still twirling the pencil. "Not worried, just a little nervous." He paused a minute, and then grinned. Still spinning around lazily and feeling Jon's eyes staring at him intently, Richie looked up at the ceiling. "Or what if, at this same exact time next year, we're famous?" 

_Famous._ No more playing at local venues and rehearsing in a cold, occasionally damp basement. No more disinterest gazes and empty rooms. Derek Schulman could be an empty hope, but he could also be the one to set off a whole new train of events that would send them in a whole different direction. 

Jon began to pull at a thread on his blanket. "That's the spirit." He encouraged. 

Richie turned so that he was looking out the window. It was a very dark day, with clouds clumped together in a rough formation above them in the sky, and rain was forecasted for a few hours later. Richie couldn't help but wonder why rain always happened nowadays during good moments. "Imagine being rich and famous." 

Standing up, Jon crossed the room and rested his hands on the back of the chair, effectively stilling the constant movement. "With you, I'm already rich." 

Richie laughed. "You're rich in my love?" 

The sound of footsteps interrupted them and the moment. Jon quickly ducked and said- "Best kind of money there is." Before he turned and walked back over to the bed, dropping back into it just as Mr. Bongiovi appeared. He opened the door and peered in, raising his eyebrows in surprise when he saw Richie there. "Hello, Richard. When did you get here?" 

"About ten minutes ago. Jon wanted to tell me something." 

They both turned to look at Jon, who waved it off. "I'll tell you and mom later. It's got something to do with the band." He said. 

Mr. Bongiovi nodded. "Alright. Don't forget that your brother is coming over with his new date." He paused and then winced for effect. "Your mom says we both have to wear ties and to be nice no matter how ridiculous they are together." 

Jon nodded. "Roger Wilco, Dad. Don't worry." 

With those parting words, Mr. Bongiovi told Richie to say hello to his parents and then went back downstairs. As soon as his footsteps faded away and, eventually, disappeared altogether, Jon turned to Richie and watched as an attempt to twirl ended with the pencil falling and rolling under the desk. "Wish me luck." He groaned. 

Richie chuckled. "Oh, that'll be the least of your troubles this week." As Jon gave him a questioning look, Richie rested his chin on his hand and tried be speak with as much nonchalance as he could muster. "My parents want to meet yours." He waited a moment for that to sink in before adding his final words. 

"Over dinner." 

Jon buried his face in his hands. "Great. Are you absolutely sure that they don't know we're together and that this isn't their version of trying to make sure I'm a good guy?" He'd met Richie's parents before, but only briefly. 

Richie could admit that it wasn't too out of the realm of possibility. He was sure that they'd been wondering who he'd been spending all his time with recently and that they probably just wanted to make sure they were nice people, but they could also have, somehow, figured it all out. 

Or they were being paranoid and dramatic. 

"I'm sure it'll all go over great." He said, though he wasn't too entirely sure about it himself. Jon smiled. "This has been a hell of a week, hasn't it?" 

Richie couldn't help but agree. 

\\\\\\\\\

The phone rang. 

Tico knew who it was before he'd even picked up the phone, knowing full and well who's voice he was going to hear and ready for it. "Did you get the news?" 

Dave sounded excited, thought that was per usual. "You bet we did. Can you believe it, Tico?" He said. For a moment, all was quiet, and then David added- "You think this is our big break?" It was said like David was genuinely unsure, which was probable. Too many times, they'd gotten themselves all excited about a possible big break and then ended up disappointed because it hadn't pulled through. The last one had been the situation with the radio and _Runaway,_ when they'd believed that it'd catapult them into fame. But something felt different about this one. 

"Well, I'm not going to say you should quit your day job just yet." Tico answered. "But I've got a good feeling about this, and that usually means we got it in the bag." The last time he'd felt this way time he'd felt this way was back when Richie had asked to join. It'd only been four or five months ago, but it felt like years ago when they'd found their final member and were finally able to work on their actual music. 

Though it was muffled, Tico heard Alec say something. "Al is nervous." Dave said. Over the phone, Tico heard an indignant " _I am not!"_


	19. Chapter 19

1984

\---------

" _Roulette Roulette you're goin' round in a spin..."_ Jon trailed off with a speculative frown, tapping his pencil on the pad of paper and shaking his leg, as if it would help him think. One hand reached up to drag itself through his hair, and then, suddenly and quite abruptly, he started laughing. 

Richie was startled, to say the least. Not only because nothing even remotely had happened, but also because of the recent stress and anxiety that had been going around recently like the plague. Jon dealt with stress by getting frustrated, so him breaking out into a fit of laughter during a very stressful situation was very unexpected. For a long minute, Richie only stared, trying to figure out what to say or, rather, if he should say anything at all. Eventually, he tested his luck and rested his hand on Jon's shaking back. "Are you okay?" Richie asked. 

A moment passed where no response was given, and then Jon looked up, no longer laughing but grinning. "It's just-tomorrow, I'm gonna go talk to a guy who's offering us a record deal, and then your parents are gonna meet my parents and it might be a disaster. Crazy, isn't it?" Taking a deep breathe, Jon sighed and reached out, tossing his arm around Richie's shoulders and pulling him close so that they were practically pressed together on Jon's bed. "Are you nervous?" He asked softly. 

Shrugging, Richie struggled to come up with an answer. The idea of something going wrong felt like a nightmare come true, though _what_ could go wrong was a pressing question. In all likelihood, there would be no trouble, but there was a nagging anxiety that spoke louder than the reassurances that his mind was trying to come up with to assure him. "Terrified." He eventually replied, kissing Jon's cheek and resting his head on Jon's shoulder, listening to every reassuring breath, feeling the rise of fall of Jon's chest against his. It felt good to be so close, to know that Jon was _there._

Jon's fingers lightly danced across his side. "My mom's making something fancy. Do you think that'll win them over?" 

Pretending to think, Richie smiled and reached up so that his hand was resting on the back of Jon's head. "I was charmed as soon as I saw you." He said in a low voice. "Maybe you inherited that charm from them." Richie grinned at the last part. Leaning foward, he brushed his lips against Jon's, a fleeting moment that was lengthened by Jon deepened it into a full kiss. For a moment, all was forgotten; the worry, the unspoken fear, the anxiety that may not be warranted but couldn't be deterred. In the few brief moments, it was just them, and in that space of time, they allowed their fears to melt away and for it to be replaced by the growing passion between them. 

When they pulled away, it was with their hearts beating rapidly and a want for more. The want to let go of their reserves and to submerge themselves in the waters they'd been tentatively testing. But there were still things to be worked out, and so they didn't in the end after a moment of wishing. They still kept close, fingers dancing across skin, remarkably shy smiles traded before they looked away. 

" _Caught up in a game you just can't win."_ Richie said suddenly, and Jon turned, confused, to look at him. Richie chuckled and brushed away stray strands of hair from Jon's eyes. "Lyrics. For the song. Are my kisses that great?" He teased. 

Jon rolled his eyes. "You keep telling yourself that, Sambora." He said, but he was fighting back a smile, and so Richie leaned in again to kiss him, struck by the urge to never let go. That was his plan, to never let go of Jon for as long as they both would live. 

\\\\\\\\\

To say that Jon was nervous would perhaps be the understatement of the year- no, the decade. 

If this all worked out, it'd be a huge game changer for not only this band, but their lives. They could go from one step to the next, a band performing at bars to, suddenly, actual stages. _Concerts._ The whole next level to this adventure. 

Richie was humming to himself and whirling around in the office chair with not a care in the world, occasionally making a helpful comment about what Jon, who was digging around in his closet, should wear to his meeting with Derek Sculman. "Just wear what you wore to your last job interview." He suggested while spinning around like a crazed madman. 

Jon frowned as he continued his search. "I have no idea what happened to that shirt." He said in response. For a moment, Jon paused in thought, and then- "Am I stressing too much? Are jeans the new 'in' thing?" 

With an amused chuckle, Richie stood and made his way over, putting his hands on His hips as he observed the ongoing investigation. "I'm pretty sure either would be fine. You'll look great." He replied. "Overdressed. Or Underdressed. Those are your options." 

Jon pulled out a white button up and peered at it with critical eyes. 

"If you were this guy, would you choose somebody in jeans or dressed to the nines?" Jon asked, folding the shirt and tossing it onto the bed.

Richie thought, looking away for a minute before settling on his decision. "Jeans." He said with a decisive nod. 

"Jeans. You bet." Jon said, and, with that, he hoped that next week would be far less stressful than this one, even when it came to clothing choices. 


	20. Chapter 20

1984

\---------

Dave was quite the talker. 

For half an hour, in a seemingly endless fashion, he went on and on about all sorts of matters and situations, recounting random stories from his life, contradicting himself as distant memories resurfaced and then made themselves known. David talked about his family, about previous girlfriends, about incidents from his childhood, before he fell silent and stared at each of them, turning his head as his eyes flit over all three of them, before he finally frowned. "None of you are paying attention, are you?" He said in a suitably annoyed tone, leaning back and crossing his arms over his chest. 

Richie gave him a sympathetic look. "It was just so...sporadic." He said in defense. There was only so many times he could think that the conversation we showing one way before the direction switched tracks like a runaway train. "My mind just sort of drifted away." Richie made a flying motion with his hand in the air, grinning at the irritated look he was getting in response. David was one of those people that got angry but forgot that anything had been happened barely five minutes later, which was good for them because everything was temporary. 

Chuckling, Tico flicked off his lighter, which he'd been turning on and off in an absent-minded way, and put it back in his pocket. "No offense meant, Dave, but you ramble on about the stupidest of things." He said, ever so blunt. If there was some thing that Richie had learned about Tico during his time in the band, it was that he was incapable of lying or being gentle with things. It was nice, surprisingly, to have somebody as a friend who didn't sugarcoat anything. "We like hearing you talk, just not about certain subjects." 

Dave scoffed and turned away. "You're all nuts. Alec, you're not my side, right?" 

Alec looked up, startled. "What are you all going on about?" He asked.

Throwing his hands up in the air, Dave looked incredulous. "You've all lost your damned minds." He said, sounding shocked, as if this was some unexpected development. Stalking back to the chair that was shoved into the corner, Dave dropped into it like a kid that hadn't got his way, complete with his crossed arms and signature pout. Tico merely shrugged, "Funny, _we're_ the crazy ones, apparently. Tell me, Dave, when was the last time you brushed your hair?" 

Looking shocked, David slowly shook his head. "Low blow, Tico. Low blow." 

Richie chuckled and looked out the window, down to the full, lively trees below and the scattered people that were walking and enjoying the fresh air. They were all gathered in Alec's small, cramped apartment while Jon was with that guy, discussing the potential record deal. Their nerves were high, but the joking around helped lessen them, give them something to take their minds off what might be happening. 

Positioning himself so that his legs were testing on the arm of the chair, his legs dangling over, David looked up at the ceiling. "Anybody else anxious?" He asked. 

Alec sighed and rubbed his hands together. "Let's try not to think about it too much." It was a reply that was reasonable and, to be honest, the smartest move to make so that they couldn't drive themselves crazy with all the possibilities of what might be happening. 

Perking up, David stood up and turned to Tico, the earlier bickering between them-the playful back-and-forth, having long been forgotten now. "Do you have any board games?" He asked excitedly. Tico shook his head, "No, no, you always cheat at games. It's like you can't help yourself." He replied. 

Alec snickered and turned to Richie with a amused grin. "You wanna go check my mail, get a moment of peace from these two?" He motioned to Tico, who glared, and Dave, who sauntered over to him and nudged him good-naturedly in the ribs. "You know you love me." Dave teased. 

Richie immediately stood. "Oh, you bet. Keys?" Alec dutifully tossed the keys over, which Richie caught expertly. "Its number nine on the right side." Alec said, and Richie gave a thumbs up. Ridiculous as it was, it reminded him of his basketball days, and Richie nearly laughed at the fact that, once upon a time, he'd had nothing more than basketball and girls on his mind, and now he had nothing but singing and Jon on his mind. Oh, how times changed. 

Slipping on his shoes, Richie ducked out the door and started down the hall, his hands in his pockets as he walked. His memory of when they'd first entered the building allowed Richie to easily navigate to the boxes, which were on the first floor but far off from where the front door was, located just near the stairs. 

Richie shoved the key into the lock, turned it, and retrieved the bills and magazines that had been placed inside. He glanced briefly at the names of the magazines, smirking at the fact that _Alec,_ of all people, has a subscription to things like 'Reader's Digest' and 'Home Improvement'. 

A hand settled on his shoulder, near his neck, and Richie practically had a heart attack as he whirled around and came face-to-face with a certain blonde vocalist, who's neutral face couldn't hide the spark in his bright eyes. "Jeez, Jon, you scared me." Richie said, placing a hand on his chest, right above his heart. "How'd it go?" 

Jon winced and looked away. "I don't know if you're gonna like what you're about to hear." He answered. 

Leaning closer, taking comfort in the fact that they were as alone as an apartment building could provide, Richie smiled. "You're a horrible liar, Jonny. Anybody ever tell you that?" He said in a low enough tone that it was hard to even hear himself. Somebody in the building was playing music- something loud and unintelligible, but it sounded like it was fast and quick; cheerful, something made for dancing. 

For a small moment, Jon tried to keep his straight face. And then it broke through in the form of a smile that was as bright and shining as the sun, and, without warning, Jon tossed his arms around Richie and pulled him into a tight hug that belied his rail thin body. "We got it!" 

It took a second for Richie to respond, to realize what had just been said and done. He wrapped his arms around Jon and rested his chin atop Jon's head, hardly daring to believe it, to acknowledge that it was done with. "We got it? Like, for sure?" He asked, and Jon gave a muffled reply of "Definitely." 

Richie let out a relieved sigh, letting himself relax, content with Jon in his arms and the knowledge that they'd _gotten it._ "Thank you." Jon said, and Richie, confused, adjusted to look at Jon's face properly. 

"Huh?" 

Jon smiled and caught Richie in a kiss, reaching up to entangle his hand in Richie's long, dark hair. "For reassuring me and keeping me calm. I would've been a nervous wreck without you." Jon replied. 

Richie shurgged, kissing Jon's forehead and holding onto the moment with every bit of determination within himself. "It's no problem. Though we should go back up there....Alec probably thinks I made a run for it." 

Jon raised his eyebrows. "What, did David want to play Monopoly?" 

Laughing, Richie nodded. "You bet." 


	21. Chapter 21

1984

\--------

 _"You're kidding me."_ Alec said, advancing on them quickly. He grabbed Jon by the shoulders and raised his eyebrows, "Are you serious?" He clarified. There was a painful desperation about him, a want for this to be real. For this band to be something more than a hopeful dream of a bunch of boys who didn't really know what they were doing. Jon gave a nod. "I'm serious, Al. We've got a deal." He put his hands on Alec's forearms, weary of how pale he looked all of a sudden. 

Tico was grinning. "Well, it's about time! How was Derek?" He never was one to revel in the moment for too long. Getting straight to the facts, per usual. It was like he couldn't even help himself. It was sorta endearing. Jon thought for a minute. "He's nice. You'll like him- He's quiet and handles himself very well. And he wants to meet the rest of us next week and talk about it in more detail." He answered. Alec seemed to regain his composure at that moment, because he stood up straighter. "Oh, great. I hate details." 

With renewed excitement that was no real surprise, Dave appeared and was practically jumping up and down. "You hate anything with hard work, Alec." He quipped. Alec made to hit him but David dodged it. "I can't believe this is really happening! We're going to make it big and be famous _finally."_ Compared to some other bands that they knew, it hadn't been that long that they'd been destitute in the music business, but it felt like decades. Years seemed to have gone by since they'd all come together. Richie smiled. "Let's hope we don't end up being a flop." He said. Dave scoffed and shook his head. "Have you heard us, Richard? If we flop, the world is either deaf or full of degenerates." 

Tico came over to join the rest of the guys, leaning against the wall beside Richie and loosely crossing his arms over his chest. "We won't flop. We'll make it, even if we don't immediately get it on the first try." He gave a pointed look to David as he said that to try and not get his hopes up so fast. 

Realizing what Tico was trying to say, and giving a sheepish smile, Dave shrugged. "One day." He said. "One day, we'll be famous, and we won't ever have to stop and think about if we're gonna fail ever again." 

\\\\\\\\\

The moment ended way to soon. But Alec was still working and needed to go catch his shift, and David had promised to help his father with cleaning out the garage, not to mention that Tico apparently had some inspiration to paint and was hurrying home before he lost it. 

Jon hadn't forgotten about the dinner, but had hoped that the day would go a little slower to give them a little more time. More time to do what, Jon couldn't tell you, but he just wanted a few more hours to try and gain his composure. He felt that the nervousness he was feeling was unreasonable, but at the same time, maybe it wasn't. It wasn't like Richie's parents had any suspicions, right? _Wrong._ This dinner could be about something so simple that Jon had no reason at all to worry about it, or maybe the reason wasn't so simple and it was actually about so much more than just two parents wanting to make sure their son wasn't involved in the occult or whatever. 

After a few minutes of walking aside each other in comfortable silence, just enjoying the silence and mourning how quick their excitement had faded in the aftermath of them having to split up so soon after learning that they had a record deal, Richie scratched the back of his neck and smiled. "I'm pretty sure we're both worrying over nothing, if that makes you feel any better."

Not knowing whether to be reassured or worried that Richie was worried about it too, Jon grazed his fingers alongside Richie's as they walked, barely anything more than a whisper of what he so badly wanted to do but couldn't. "Maybe it's nothing. What if we just eat and talk about politics through the whole dinner?" Jon chuckled a bit, even if it really wasn't all that funny, in an attempt to lighten the mood that had settled over them more quickly than either would admit. Richie glanced at him. "I'm more worried about the aftermath. What happens when I get home, or when we leave, and my dad or your mom just goes 'How long have you two been together'?" They stepped walking without previous agreement, just standing in between two buildings that formed something that wasn't quite an alleyway but technically nothing else. Jon glanced around them, at the desolate streets and the sky, which was a plethora of colors, and then grabbed Richie's hand, entangling their fingers and squeezing reassuringly. 

"We haven't done much more than kiss, really. I'm sure they can't tell if the guys don't even know yet." Jon said. He was terribly aware that he wasn't somebody who did a good job with comforting people, but he tried his best. Richie nodded. "Yeah. True. It's just- now is such a weird time. It's been more than a few months by now, why not before?" He looked away, eyebrows furrowed, deep in thought. 

Jon gently placed his hand on the side of Richie's face and turned it so that they were looking at each other again. "Maybe they wanted to see if you fit in." He suggested. Jon really didn't believe what he was saying, but he prayed that Richie did. 

Richie gave a little. "Do you think that I fit in good, really?" 

Somebody could've walked by at any moment. Jon didn't care, couldn't find it within himself to. He only had his eyes for Richie and only felt the growing feelings that lay within himself, the want to see Richie happy. Jon didn't care if somebody saw, then, only cared about _now._

Grabbing Richie's coat in his hands, Jon forced him back a few steps and leaned up, knowing that Richie would meet him halfway and feeling it. It was hardly the most romantic place to kiss, but it was somehow perfect. Richie's back had hit the wall behind them, giving both of them a little stability as they became more passionate. Jon leaned up, his fingers still fisted in the cotton of Richie's coat though there was no reason to keep them there. Richie had his own hands placed on Jon's hips, securing Jon against him. 

They broke apart but didn't make any move to leave the position they'd gotten into. Jon pressed a kiss against the corner of Richie's mouth, and then nodded. "You fit in perfectly." He whispered. "The guys think you're great and I - I think you're utterly amazing." 

Richie laughed quietly. "Well, I think you're completely fantastic, so it seems we fit together perfectly." 

\\\\\\\\\

It was dark outside, a blanket of night peppered by bright white stars that had taken their place in the grand scheme of sky. 

Jon was going back and forth between the living room and kitchen, his hands clenched into fists at his sides, unable to keep still. His mother was making dinner, standing over the stove and glancing at Jon in between her frequent checks of the food. "Sit down, honey." She said and jolted her head toward the table. Jon's father was already sitting down on one of the chairs, flipping through yesterday's newspaper and tapping his foot in the floor, making a consistent clicking noise that seemed to reverberate throughout the house. "I think I'll pass." Jon replied as he rounded back into the living room. If he had been nervous earlier, then it paled it comparison to now. 

Mrs. Bongiovi clicked her tongue like an irritated grandmother. "What in the world are you so nervous about? It's just Richie and his parents, isn't it?" She raised her eyebrows. 

Jon nodded. "Yeah." With that being said, he reappeared in the kitchen and forced himself to stop pacing. "It's just that, uh...yeah." Jon didn't know what he'd been about to say and only shook his head at himself as his father folded the newspaper in half and set it aside. "I get nervous meeting people, too. But I just pretend that I've known them my whole life, convince myself that I know them and that we're not strangers at all, and it helps." He paused. "Sometimes."

Somebody knocked on the door. Or maybe not 'Somebody' because Jon knew perfectly well who'd be on the other side of the door. Either way, it was startling and nearly made his mother drop the plate she was carrying. "Should I get that?" Mr. Bongiovi asked, looking between his wife and son. 

Jon shook his head. "No, it's okay." He said as he stood and jogged over to the door, trying to push down all the anxiety and ignore all the potential things that could go wrong.

And so he took a deep breathe, readying himself for the unknown, and opened the door. 


	22. Chapter 22

1984

\---------

Richie was torn between a shocking confidence and an uneasy anxiety as he half-listened to his mother and father talk amongst themselves and looked out the window at the dark streets beyond. It was warm night, allowing for a comfortable drive, and though Richie was just a little worried about anything that might happen, he was comforted by the sound of his parents' voice, and he was reminded of how accepting they were to other people. ' _Why not their own son?'_ Richie thought as they turned into the street. It was easy to assume, but truth be told, it wasn't a guarantee. Maybe they were only accepting at a distance, not when it came to their flesh and blood. Or maybe Richie was driving himself crazy, and there was no need to worry because, in all actuality, it was a dinner between parents, not a wedding, for pete's sake. There was no reason to suspect that they were up to anything, after all. 

"Is there anything I need to avoid saying?" Mr. Sambora said, pulling up to the house and turning off the engine. "I don't want to ruin the night because I said something I shouldn't have." He turned around in his seat to fully look at Richie and patiently awaited an answer. Richie thought for a minute and gave a shrug. "I dunno. Probably not, though let's not mention any bad cooking this time." He grinned at the end, to show that he was kidding, but Mr. Sambora just scoffed. "That was taken too literally." He dismissed, waving it off like a pesky fly was bothering him. Mrs. Sambora smiled fondly and smoothed out the dress she was wearing. "Let's not give them a reason not to like us, honey." She said, rechecking her purse and wrapping the light scarf she had on a little tighter. Richie was pretty sure they had overdressed for such a simple occasion, but hadn't said anything for risk of being dragged into what he begrudgingly referred to as the 'dressing party.' 

He stepped out of the car, out into the warm night. Richie was thinking about guitars in an attempt to clear his head and calm himself, a tactic that always seemed to work, as he walked ahead of his parents and waited at the porch for them. Guitars were his safe place, of sorts, which was kinda funny, because playing guitars was what got him into this in the first place. Not that he'd change it for the world. Richie was happy at this point that he and Jon had reached, even with the uncertainties that came with it. It had been worth it, even if Richie was worried that he wouldn't be accepted by his parents. Now wasn't the time to think about it, anyways. Richie stood to the side, watching as his mother knocked quickly on the door like she'd been about ready to run. Mr. Sambora was adjusting the collar of his shirt, and he caught Richie's eye, smiling reassuringly as he did so, as if sensing Richie's thoughts. It took a minute, but eventually, the sounds of locks sliding out of place could be heard, and then Jon appeared, opening the door and looking at each of them, as if checking to make sure that each was accounted for. "Hi, sorry for the wait." Jon said. He smiled briefly at Richie, and then turned back to his parents. "Here, come inside. How was the...drive?" There was a noticeable pause between the last two words, which came out awkwardly formal. He had met Richie's parents before, so it wasn't like this was their very first meeting, but those had been five-second greetings, so now that Richie thought about it, maybe it wasn't so shocking that his parents wanted to know more. 

They stepped inside. Richie could see Mr. Bongiovi at the dining table, and watched as he stood up in preparation to greet them. Meanwhile, he could hear the clutter of dishes from out of sight in the kitchen, where he assumed Mrs. Bongiovi was. "The drive was nice. The streets usually aren't so quiet." Mr. Sambora answered, "Is that the usual?" 

Mr. Bongiovi appeared, and swept in for a handshake. "You must be Mr. Sambora." He greeted with a grin that was eerily reminiscent of his son's. "My name is John, and my wife-she's in the kitchen- is Carol." 

"Just call me Adam." Mr. Sambora replied. "Your wife must be a talented chef, whatever she's cooking smells delicious!" At those words, Mrs. Bongiovi appeared with a beaming smile and flushed cheeks, as if that was the best compliment she'd ever gotten. "That's nice of you to say." Instead of the handshake, Mrs. Bongiovi went straight in for the same motherly hug that Richie had been on the receiving end of many times. "I'm Joan." Mrs. Sambora said, accepting the hug and smiling in amusement at Richie over Mrs. Bongiovi's shoulder. 

Richie hoped that was a good thing. Glancing over, he saw Jon give a look of mingled amusement and embarrassment looking away as his mother gave one last hug before pulling away. "I'm sorry." Mrs. Bongiovi said with no real guilt. "It's just so nice to meet you. Richie is such a lovely guest, very polite." She nodded as the words came out, as if agreeing with herself over it, and Richie felt a touch of pride with that. 

Mrs. Sambora looked impressed. "Is he?" 

They stood and talked for a few minutes, with Jon standing awkwardly to the side like he wasn't entirely sure what to say or do, and Richie nodding along to whatever was being said. So far, so good. Granted, they'd only been in each other's company for barely ten minutes, but the point still stood. 

"I hope you all like meatloaf." Mrs. Bongiovi said cheerfully, moving back towards the kitchen with purpose. "And salad, though I made that, so I don't know how good it's going to be." Mr. Bongiovi added. 

\\\\\\\\\\\

"How is the meatloaf? I know it's a little dry..." 

Richie resisted the urge to laugh, biting his tongue as he shook his head at the ridiculousness. This was possibly the best meatloaf he'd ever had in all his life. "It's amazing." He said reassuringly. Richie's mother nodded enthusiastically, "It's wonderful, Carol. Truly." She said. 

Mr. Sambora nodded. "I wasn't wrong earlier. Anyways, so, uh, what do you think of this band business?" To anybody else, he might've sounded disproving, but Richie knew that his father was one of the most supporting people he'd ever known, especially when it came to the band. He was glad for that, the unending support. Mr. Bongiovi exchanged a glance with his wife before hurriedly swallowing. "Well, we were, of course, a little...apprehensive, considering how hard it is to get into the music industry. But we've tried to be very encouraging. Has Richie told you about the deal?" 

"Yes. It's well deserved, after all this hard work. And I'm glad that he's not only achieving his dream, but also found some friends." Mr. Sambora replied. At the word 'friends', Richie felt a jolt of anxiety, but knew it was nothing to worry about. Looking away, he watched as Jon, who'd been mostly silent, took a small bite of his salad and began to, almost automatically, destroy his piece of meatloaf and smash it down, like he was trying to make it smaller. Richie gently nudged Jon's leg with his foot, and Jon looked up, wide eyed, but then his face softened into something that wasn't quite a smile but not anything else, either.

Setting down his fork with a slight clinking noise, Mr. Bongiovi wiped his mouth with a napkin. "So, what do you two do?" He asked politely, looking between them intently. "Well, I'm a secretary for a law firm, and Adam is a factory foreman." Mrs. Sambora answered. "What about you two?" She folded her hands on the table like she was about to make a lucrative deal. 

Mr. Bongiovi was the one who answered. "Carol is a florist. If it were up to her, we'd have millions of flowers taking over this house." He laughed a little. "I'm a barber. Free haircuts for everybody in the family. Or anybody who can't afford them, like every single one of Jon's friends." 

Richie thought of the guys' hair and smirked. And then Mr. Bongiovi turned to him with raised eyebrows. "Since you're a friend, Richie, are you going to be needing a haircut? Free of charge. I've been told that I'm quite good at it." Looking back at Jon, Richie had to admit that Mr. Bongiovi must be good at his job, but he also loved his hair and loathed for it to be ruined. "I'll think about it." He promised with a grin. He would probably need to, anyways. If he ever wanted to move out of his parents house, Richie would need every spare penny he could get. 

"I'm glad Richie and the others boys are getting along along so well." Mrs. Sambora said. "Nowadays, I feel like Richie spends more time with Jon than he does with us anymore!" She laughed at the end, but Richie felt his heart start to speed up a little bit more, and Jon visibly stiffened. Mr. Bongiovi nodded. "Jon's new favorite subject of discussion is Richie." 

From out of the corner of his eye, Richie could see Jon bury his face in his hands. 

"Don't be so embarrassed, Jon. It's nice for you to be so close to somebody." Mr. Bongiovi smiled. And then it faded slightly. "Are you not hungry?" He asked. Jon smiled uneasily, "I'm fine. I was just going to ask Mrs. Sambora what it was like working at a law firm." 

"Oh, it's all just boring paperwork, taking calls, all day and all night. It's not very exciting." Mrs. Sambora replied. "But it's very repetitive, so you know what to expect." Richie knew his mother didn't like unpredictability or sudden changes in routines. Mrs. Bongiovi suddenly looked at the clock. "Is anybody hungry for desert? I made some apple cake." 

\\\\\\\\\

Dinner had been a success. As they prepared to leave, their parents giving the usual overtly long goodbyes, Richie looked at Jon and caught his eyes. "Are you alright? You weren't eating." Richie said, maybe a little unnecessarily. In all fairness, he really didn't know how to deal with this, how to truly help Jon as much as he desperately wanted to. Jon nodded, "Yeah, I just wasn't hungry." It was a lie that came out almost automatically, as if Jon couldn't help but say it before anything else. He winced. "I'm sorry. You shouldn't have to deal with this." 

Richie and Jon were standing outside on the porch, awaiting for the goodbyes to finish, looking up at the dark sky. They were standing shoulder-to-shoulder, secretly relieved as to how swimmingly the night had gone by. Looking back to make sure that nobody could see them, Richie pulled Jon into a quick, firm hug that was reciprocated just as tightly. "I just want you to be healthy. The guys do too. And your parents. We want to help you." Richie said. 

Jon gave Richie a chaste, yet tender kiss, a ghost of the one they'd shared just a few hours later. "I know. Thank you, I just have a hard time showing how much I appreciate all that you guys are trying to do." Richie nodded to show he understood. "Tonight...will you be okay?" Jon squeezed his hand. "Don't worry about me." 

They stepped away from each other just in time. Mr. and Mrs. Sambora were stepping out and waving goodbye to Jon's parents. 

"Tomorrow?" Richie asked for confirmation. Jon nodded, his face obscured in the darkness, but a smile still identifiable. "Tomorrow." He agreed. 


	23. Chapter 23

1984

\---------

"How did you first get into playing guitar?" Jon asked, his fingers running lazily through Richie's hair while writing something down on the notebook he had resting on his leg. Richie was pretty sure he was writing down lyrics, but he was being oddly secretive about it. With a grin in place, Richie playfully snatched at it, only for, predictably, Jon to pull it away until it was out of reach. " _That_ is mine." Jon said as he did so, smiling and resuming his original task. Richie smirked but didn't make another attempt, leaning back against his friend, well, more than friend, at this point. There was no denying that they were beyond that stage. "Not long after Jimi Hendrix died. I don't know what prompted me to do it, just that it felt right." Richie replied. Thinking carefully about those days so many years ago, he added-"Like it was meant to be." Because it'd felt like that, like Richie had been meant to play the guitar from day one. It had felt natural, despite the mistakes he made here and there. "What made you get into singing?" He asked. 

Jon shrugged. "I dunno. I was just drawn to it, the possibilities." He answered after a long minute. "It's amazing, what you can do with a pen and a piece of paper." Reaching back, Jon retrieved his notebook and sat back against the headboard of his bed, making sure to keep the papers out of view. He was working on something intently, looking back up to make sure Richie wasn't going to try anything. "Do you want to spoil the surprise?" Jon said, narrowing his eyes in mock suspicion. Richie immediately perked up, "What surprise? Aw, are you writing me something?" He placed a hand to his chest, right above his heart, and grinned. "Jonny's a romantic, who knew?" He surely didn't. 

Looking like he was trying not to smile, and failing miserably, Jon kicked Richie's leg. "I won't be writing you something if you keep trying to peak." He replied, trying his best not to show how amused he was by the dramatic display Richie was putting on. "Why don't you read a book or something?" Jon said, squinting at something that he'd written. He erased it a minute later. 

Richie looked over at the bookshelf, then back at Jon. "Nah. All your books are... _old."_ Richie scrunched his nose up as he said that, like it pained him to admit it. "Give me a hint." He persisted, undaunted by the task and Jon's threat, which he was very close to reiterating. "Rich, it's a surprise, which means you cannot, under any circumstances, no matter what, know." Jon said with an emphasis on every word, smiling in spite of himself. "If this is how you act every birthday or christmas, then I feel bad for your parents." 

Looking offended, Richie propped himself up with his elbows. "Excuse you. If you must know, we're all like that." He said, sounding shocked that Jon would say such a thing. "While we're on that subject, what did your parents think of mine?" He played idly with the string of the sweatshirt he had on. 

Jon tapped the end of his pencil on the paper. "They loved 'em. My dad wants to see them again, actually. Luckily, mom managed to hold him off." He answered. Richie chuckled, "We're all pretty loveable. Actually, my dad wants to know the recipe your mom used for the meatloaf." 

Shaking his head, Jon looked up. "Good luck with that. She's very protective over her recipes, they're probably going to be the things that she saves if there's ever a fire." He replied. Richie nodded, "I know what you mean. My mom will probably try and grab any and all pictures." 

Setting aside the notebook and pencil, Jon folded his hands and looked at Richie with a familiar, fond gaze in his eyes. "You were great that night. If my parents weren't fans of you before-which they were, by the way-then they definitely love you now." He said softly, keeping his voice down just in case anybody was walking nearby. "Thanks for being great." 

Richie laughed. "You seem to have pretty low standards." He said with grin, ignoring the irritated look that was given to him. "I do not. Try to have a little more faith in yourself." Jon said, giving him a pointed look as he swung his legs off the bed and stood. Richie watched as Jon crossed the room and began to look at his collection of books, as if to give him something to do. "You're one to talk, Jonny." Richie replied. 

"What are you talking about?" Jon asked as he pulled out a book and began to flip through it aimlessly. Richie couldn't tell if he was being deliberately obtuse or genuinely didn't know what Richie was talking about, which wasn't likely. Jon was smart, he knew what Richie wanted to talk about. Jon wandered over to the chair and sat down, still looking through the book. Richie sat up but didn't make any move to stand. "Jon, I think we should all about..." Richie trailed off, unsure of how to say it. He made a motion in the air with his hand, trying to come up with a word to describe the situation. How the hell was he supposed to refer to it? "You can say it." Jon said, sitting a little more stiffly as he flipped a page. "It's not gonna make it any less real." 

Maybe not, but Richie felt an odd sort of superstition against saying it out loud. "I'm sorry, but I think that we should talk about it, and try to reach, I don't know, a common ground about how we should deal with this." Richie wasn't sure if he was talking about this right, or if there was even a proper way he could talk about this. He suddenly realized that maybe he should've talked to Tico or one of the other guys, try and test out the waters, figure out what they knew. Jon hummed but still didn't look up. "When I was younger, I'd see all these other kids, and they'd be all skinny and fit, and I wasn't. Or I felt like I wasn't." 

Richie sat quietly, watching him. They were only a few feet away, but it felt like miles had stretched between them. "I just wanted to look like them. I didn't mean for it to become so big, but it did." Jon clearly needed to say it, though he looked as if the words were being forcibly extracted from him. "Tico was the first one to find out, and I felt so _ashamed,_ because he'd found out my secret, and I didn't want him to know. He was scared, I think, because he didn't know how to deal with this, but he was...understanding, I guess, and he didn't judge me about it." Jon didn't look at Richie while he talked, his face carefully neutral. "I told the other guys after that. I couldn't keep it a secret, and Tico, well...He thought that it'd be better if we were all in on it." 

Jon took a deep breathe. He finally looked at Richie, his face a twisted combination of sad and amused, as if there was a joke hidden in his words that only Jon knew and understood. "I feel guilty, because they worry a lot about me. And you worry about me, and it's all needless, and so stupid." He fingered the page of his book, bending the edge. 

Shaking his head, Richie stood, walking over to where Jon was sitting and crouching down in front of him. "It's not needless." He said, testing his hand lightly on Jon's leg. "We all want to help you, and we all made the choice to stay and try to do that." 

Richie cleared his throat. "And I'm glad that I can try and help you. I know that you think I'll get scared, or just decide that you're not worth it, but I need you to trust me. You're more than worth whatever is coming ahead, okay?" 

Rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand, Jon gave a small, barely noticeable smile. "Okay." He whispered with a short, jerky nod. Richie held his free hand, squeezing it tightly in silent promise. 

\\\\\\\\\

"When are we supposed to meet with the record deal guy, Teek?" David asked, leaning against Tico lazily as they waited patiently for Alec to get off of work so they could do something. Probably go back to the apartment and ponder their romantic loneliness. Tico squinted in the bright sun, which offset the chilled air. "Next Tuesday. And stop chewing your fingernails, it's disgusting." He answered. Glancing briefly at his watch, Tico frowned and star tapping his foot, becoming more and more disgruntled by the hour. "Mr. Nice Guy was supposed to meet us thirty minutes ago. And he calls _us_ irritating." He sighed. 

Looking around the deserted parking lot they'd found themselves in, searching for any sign of their friend, David searched for a topic of conversation to keep themselves busy. "So, has anybody caught your eye?" He asked. Tico looked at him curiously, "Like, have I seen anybody who's pretty? Cause if so, then I think it's too early for that."

Scoffing, David threw his hands up in the air. "It's been five months!" 

Tico just shook his head. "I loved her. You can't move on from a divorce that quickly, Davey. You gotta process it, and then you move on." He said. There was something about his voice that made David falter, and made him go from hyperactive to suddenly still as a statue. 

"I'm sorry, man. I didn't think about what I was saying. That's gotta be rough." Dave shook his head regretfully. His grip on Tico tightened in his signature sign of attempted comfort, which felt nice, admittedly. "If it's any help you, I'll stay single. We can have a single pact! When Alec finally decides to reappear, we can tell him that we all gotta have a girlfriend or none at all!" 

Laughing softly, Tico shook his head. "How's that gonna help me?" 

Covered in grease and breathing like he'd just run fifty miles without a break, Alec appeared and looked surprised to see them. "Oh, sorry, you two. I forgot we were gonna meet up." He wiped his hands on his jeans and came to stop beside them. "What were you two talking about?" 

David grinned cheerfully. "We're gonna make a single pact!" 

Alec frowned, and then chuckled. "Well, I hate to break it to you, but I got a date tonight." 


	24. Chapter 24

1984

\--------

David was shocked. 

Not shocked that Alec had managed to get himself a maybe-girlfriend or that he might be already had a girlfriend and he was only just telling them about it, but shocked that his friend couldn't join their pact. He'd really been counting on that. "You're leaving us?" He gasped after a moment of standing there, opening his mouth and closing it like a dramatic fish, trying to find the right words. Alec responded by looking at him like he was crazy, which was mighty hypocritical. "What are you talking about?" He asked. "I don't think we're on the same topic, because I'm not leaving anybody." 

Tico winced and grabbed David's shoulder. "I think what Dave was trying to say was-you're abandoning us tonight to hang out with her? Which is perfectly cool, by the way, no issues from me about that." He hurriedly said, squeezing David's shoulder as he said that, maybe so that the keyboardist got the point about what Tico was trying to say. It wasn't so real surprise that Tico was trying to be the mediator, when you considered how level headed he was, but David still felt betrayed, dramatics be damned. Alec smiled, " _Thank you,_ Tico." He said with a emphasis on the first two words, looking very smug. "At least there's someone who appreciates my effort to get a girl and not, you know, join a single pact. What the hell is that, anyways?" Shaking his head, Alec started walking. David jogged to catch up while Tico lagged behind, probably considering if there was a chance of him being able to sneak away. "One for all and all for one. All in or all out. Are you catching my drift here?" David tried. Alec gave him a weird look. "Ugh, okay, how about a much more blunt way of putting this...either all of us have a girlfriend or none at all." 

Alec scoffed. "How is that even supposed to work out?" 

David stared at him for a few seconds, trying to come up with an answer but getting nothing. "Damn your logic." He finally sighed. Alec looked sympathetic and pat his back reassuringly. "Fine, okay, you don't have to be in the pact, that's fine, but Tico, please, _please_ tell me you're still in. It works better with two guys anyways, much more logical." David turned while still walking and looked at Tico, who was deliberately dragging his feet to stay away. "Dave, nothing about this is logical." Tico replied. 

"He's got a point. Now, does anybody have any idea where we're going or are we just gonna wander around and maybe hitchhike?" Alec said, lighting his cigarette and ignoring the incredulous look that David just gave him. "You guys are going to leave me high and dry?" He said. 

Tico finally caught up with them. "You'll be regretting it when we strike gold and get famous. What if you and Al meet somebody special but I'm stuck without anybody?" He pointed out. "That's hardly fair." With that being said, Alec nodded in agreement and Dave scowled, stuffing his hands into his pockets and walking a little more resolutely. As with all disagreements, it'd all be forgotten soon enough. Dave would either forget about it or decide that it wasn't worth the trouble to bring up again, and for that, his friends were grateful. "So, who's the new lady?" Tico said to break the silence, and also to satisfy his curiosity. 

Alec smiled. "Her name's Vivien. She works at the mechanic with me and decided that she has nothing to do later, so she accepted my offer to take her out to dinner." He said, sounding proud of such a thing. It certainly wasn't a rare opportunity, but Alec seemed a little more interested in this girl. "Aww, I love romantic dinners. Speaking of romance and dinners, do either of you two think our little lovebirds have done anything like that?" David said, looking at both of his friends with a mischievous grin on his face. 

Tico shrugged. "Probably not. Richie told me that their parents had met up for dinner, and that it went fine, so there's that. I think that'd kinda be a little obvious, though." He replied. "I'm surprised that they haven't caught on that we don't know yet." Thinking about that for a minute, Alec agreed. "Yeah. I think we should keep it that way." 

Dave nodded. "Change in subject, is there anybody else who's been wanting to see what new Indiana Jones movie that's coming out?" 

Shaking his head, Tico began to lag again. "Nope, but you're going to drag us to the cinema anyways, aren't you?" As he said that, he exchanged an amused look with Alec. 

"You bet. But since you're such a good sport, I'll buy you popcorn." 

\\\\\\\\\

"What are we doing here, again?" Richie asked, looking up at the sky and the flock of birds that were flying amongst the clouds, unbothered by life in general, free to wander, free to roam. "I thought we were going to talk." He added a second later, because he had a suspicious feeling that Jon would try and get out of talking to avoid talking, avoid having to feel. Richie couldn't blame him- he could imagine that talking about such a thing would be tough- but it was something that needed to be done. It was a necessary hurdle that they needed to jump over now or else they never would. 

Jon clutched his notebook a little tighter to his chest. "My parents don't know yet." He said, "I don't want them hearing us." Jon brushed away his hair and sat down on the bench, the same one they'd sat on so many months ago. Richie remained standing, mainly because he felt too antsy to sit and stay down. He was thinking, mainly about the fact that he knew nothing about eating disorders, at all. Richie had a vague memory of his mother talking about a girl at her thigh school who struggled with it, but couldn't think of anything else, and it was only then that he realized how severely unprepared he was to deal with this, how little he knew. "Are you alright?" Jon asked, looking at him with thinly veiled concern. Richie realized that he'd been staring at the houses in the distance while he'd been thinking in relative silence, and turned, startled. "Yeah, sorry, I was just thinking." Richie replied. 

Humming, Jon opened his notebook and pulled out a pencil. "I know what you're about to say, by the way." He said, casually as ever, not looking up when Richie let out a small laugh. "Oh, yeah? What am I about to say?" Walking foward, Richie placed his hands on his hips and waited patiently. "That I should see a therapist. A shrink, or what-have-you." Jon replied. He wrote down a line of words on the piece of paper, as if to distract himself from the conversation. "And the answer is a firm 'no'." 

Richie frowned. "Jon, you need a professional." No matter how well meaning anybody's intentions were, Richie was aware that nobody knew the proper way to handle the situation at hand. "I don't think that anybody knows how to deal with this. For all we know, we could just make things worse." Though, Richie admitted to himself, he wasn't sure how worse things could get. Maybe this wasn't even the tip of the iceberg. Jon sighed, "I know, but there's no way in hell that I'm about to go to a shrink." There was a steely determination in his voice that suggested that there would be no backing down, no weakening of the defences. Jon looked up, eyes narrowed and calm, and Richie knew that pushing him would only make matters worse. "Okay, okay." Richie put his hands in surrender before letting them drop back to his sides in defeat. "I won't push it." That did make the situation harder to deal with, though. He would have to go and research. 

Jon's face softened. "I'm sorry." He whispered, as if talking any louder would destroy the world. "I'll read up about it with you, if you'd like me too." He offered. Richie came over to sit beside him, "I'm counting on that, Jonny." He said. "We can have some, uh, library dates." 

A laugh served as a temporary response. Jon glanced around, and then once having confirmed that the coast was clear, gently traced his fingers on the back of Richie's hand. "As long as I'm with you, the library is the best place to be." He said with a fond smile. Richie smirked as he raised his hand, placing it on the back of Jon's neck and leaning close. "I hope you're prepared to say that when you're sneezing up a storm and getting hushed for breathing too loudly."

"My allergies hate me." Jon sighed, resting his head on Richie's shoulder. Richie chuckled, knowing that this was showing to be one of the toughest experiences of either of their lives, but feeling sure that they'd get through it.

\\\\\\\\\

"Those chairs are comfy as hell to nap in." Alec informed the other two as he cracked his back, yawning all the while, as if to emphasis the fact that he'd just spent nearly two hours sleeping. It was no real surprise, though Tico was a little bent out of shape because he'd paid the admission price. "You could've just said that you were tired and going to go take on a nap on, I dunno, your _couch."_ He said for the umpteenth to to anybody who was listening. Alec grinned, "I already told David that I wouldn't join his stupid pact, the least I could do was go to his stupid movie." He replied. 

Scowling, David appeared at Alec's side. "First of all, neither of those are stupid, and second, you slept through the movie, so it doesn't count." He said. "I even bought you popcorn!" He sounded betrayed at the last part, like this was a great offense done against him. Alec looked like he was trying not to laugh, and merely slung his arm around David's shoulder to placate him. "If it makes you feel any better, that was the best sleep I've had in a long while." 

Tico sighed and shook his head. "I told you that you shouldn't have gotten that mattress, the springs are poking out of it!" He admonished.

Alec shrugged. "It was cheap. My only other alternative was a futon and, let me tell you, that thing felt more uncomfortable than an airplane seat." He replied. David tilted his head, "That's funny. I find airplane seats to be very comfortable." 

Tico looked at him in disbelief. "Are you even human?" 

Chuckling, Alec hurried them along. "If he isn't, then he's doing a very poor imitation." 


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is all over the place.

1984

\-------

Richie couldn't help but wonder when his life got so weird, or if it had always been that way and he just hadn't noticed until now. 

He was being hugged rather eagerly by David, who was quite frankly hanging off of him at this point, and there was a mingled feeling of disbelief and happiness running through him. They had technically already known that they had the record deal, but just knowing that they had confirmation and that this step had been taken, that they could move on to bigger and better things to focus on, was an amazing feeling. Alec was talking about _something,_ and it was hard to focus on because he kept going around in circles, never quite meeting the end of his sentences, but Richie was just listening along to be polite and in order to have something to listen to while he got his thoughts on order. They had a record deal, which was something that, loathe as everybody probably did to admit it, nobody truly thought they'd get. 

Something about them had managed to convince Derek Shulman to give them a chance that could make or break him, or, you know, just make him dearly regret ever signing them. Though it was worrying to think about where they might end up if this doesn't work out, Richie set aside that lingering worry and focused on enjoying tonight. Even if David was accidentally jabbing him in the ribs every five seconds and it probably wasn't accidental because Richie had commented on his fashion sense earlier that day and he still didn't seem to have gotten over it. Just being there with a couple of guys who he'd become so close to over the span of these months was enough. "David, you're being annoying again." Tico said with a badly hidden smile tugging at his lips. "Go find a different tree." Jon added with a laugh as he went through the cassettes that Alec had on a rack in his living room. "My god, I feel I'm in hippie wonderland right now." He muttered under his breathe, still audible enough to hear and make Alec scowl. "You've gotta be crazy. None of those are hippies, you're just saying that because it isn't rock and you're biased against that, and the hippies." 

Richie frowned. "Why are you biased against hippies?" And then he couldn't keep himself from chuckling, shaking his head and wondering why that sentence even had to leave his mouth. David grinned, "Yeah, what did they ever to you?" He "accidentally" elbowed Richie again. It didn't feel so much as an accident that time and so Richie pushed him away, though the peace didn't last long because David was back at it again just a second later. Jon scoffed, "I feel like they're shoving love at me everywhere I go." He said while scrutinizing one of the cases he'd just pulled out before deeming it respectable. Alec tossed his head up and laughed. "Oh, please. You're writing a goddamn _love song_ and now you're saying the hippies shove love at you?" He said in a amused tone. Tico clicked his tongue, "Maybe he's one of them and he's biased against his own kind." 

Jon gave him a weird look. "That one didn't even make sense." He replied. "And it's not a love song, I'll have you know." Jon added while fiddling with the tape recorder busily, "It's just a song idea." 

As if pretending to be surprised by that, Alec put a hand to his chest and mocked regret. "Oh, I'm sorry, Jon. I didn't know writing a run-of-the-mill song included you blushing like a schoolgirl." He said with a mischievous little smirk. David was laughing so hard now that he was out of breathe and doubled over with his hands on his knees. Jon narrowed his eyes. "I was not blushing. And stop saying those things before I have to go and find a new keyboardist." 

Tico rubbed his face. "Yeah, he's the best one we've got. Now, is anybody hungry? Because I made food." He stood up from the stool he was sitting one and made his way to the stove, which had a large pot sitting on one of the burners. David recovered from his laughing fit and winced for effect. "Is that nuclear?" He teased, using Richie as a shield against Tico's resulting glare. "Shut up, David. You can't even do your own laundry." He pulled off the lid and smiled triumphantly. David made his way over and peered into the pot. "Oh, wow. It looks edible this time." He barely made his escape before Tico could punch his shoulder in retaliation. 

"Is that spaghetti?" Richie said, coming to stand beside Tico, who looked quite pleased with himself. Alec furrowed his eyebrows and carefully made his way over. "Since when do you know how to make spaghetti? The last time you came over here you burnt water and I had to throw away my favorite pot. Which you are going to replace for me, I'll have you know." He said while staring dubiously at the mess of noodles and sauce. Tico scoffed, "Will you people stop focusing on my lack of culinary ability before? This spaghetti looks incredible and I am very proud right now." 

David looked begrudgingly impressed. "It does look good. Now, if it tastes good, we'll just have to give you the title of 'best chef' and call it a day." Without waiting for permission, he grabbed a fork and stuck it into the pot, winding the noodles around it for a good minute before it resurfaced and David stuck it in his mouth. He chewed slowly and was silent for a moment, as if mulling it over, and then he looked up with an awestruck look on his face.

"I love you, man." 

Tico grinned in success. He accepted a high-five from Richie and pulled a serving spoon out of one of the drawers. "Now when we move out and inevitably end up living together, we won't be surviving on Chinese food and beef jerky." He said proudly. Richie chuckled, "Don't knock the jerky, man. It's good for your soul." 

Turning and looking around, Richie saw Jon still messing with the tape recorder and not bothering with anybody else. The humor fell away and he made his way over as casually as he could, considering what he knew, complete with his hands in his pockets. Jon didn't look up when Richie came into his line of sight, but he did lightly smack his hand against the recorder for show. "This damn thing is useless." He said with irritation. Richie leaned across the table and, with the press of a button, _Jungleland_ started playing. He looked back up at Jon, who looked defeated. The talking in the kitchen had become much louder, and Richie knew it was on purpose. Jon smiled faintly, "They're so obvious." He said softly. Richie nodded in agreement. "Let's be thankful for that, huh?" He sat down on the couch, even though like everything else in Alec's ramshackle apartment, it was old and dusty and uncomfortable. Or maybe he was just spoiled by his mother's obsessive cleanliness. Either one was entirely possible. 

Jon looked content to sit in the silence between them forever, but Richie wasn't having it. He folded his hands, considering what to do and cursing his poor memory when he couldn't remember the first things from the books he'd been reading. "Why don't you want to eat?" He settled on saying, because it was the only thing that came to mind in that moment. "You know why." Jon replied. "I'm not even that hungry." He added a minute !ater, as if that could make it better. It didn't. Richie leaned back in the couch, hoping that it'd be more comfortable than sitting as straight as a ramrod. "Because you drank a bunch of water. It fills you up." Richie didn't know why he said that, because he was pretty sure Jon knew that. It was on purpose, Richie suspected. He knew that water was like a filler, and it wasn't so unreasonable to assume that Jon had just found ways to avoid the hunger pains. "But you can't replace food, and I just want you to know now, that I care about you, and I'm not about to let you go hungry." 

It was the first time either of them had said something like that, and Jon looked momentarily caught off guard by the statement. "I don't need to eat anymore than I already do, Rich." Jon finally muttered, looking back at where the rest of the guys were, still trying to pretend that they couldn't here Richie and Jon even though they were barely seven feet away. "I already eat enough as it is." As if part of his resolve had crumbled, Jon sat down on the arm of a chair. Richie didn't believe a word of that, but didn't say so. "I can't force you to eat, but if you, you know, want to, I'll be here." Richie said, and he saw Jon look away, unable to keep their unsteady locked gaze. "Tico made spaghetti. He's preparing for when we move out and have to be actual adults." 

Jon laughed. "That's a surprise. I thought we were just going to have to live off of whatever we could scrounge off our parents." He said with a small shake of his head. "Who knew? The most responsible person in this band has learned how to cook." He sounded amused by that, and Richie took that as a good sign. Richie sat and watched Jon silently as he seemed to think it all over, debating with himself over the pros and cons, though that we just an assumption. "Would that make you happy?" Jon eventually asked. Richie ran his hand through his hair and shrugged, "Yeah, but I'll still be happy if you don't. Try not to feel so pressured." Richie almost laughed at himself- who wouldn't feel pressured by this?

Standing and looking forward the kitchen, where the other guys had gathered and were eating, still standing because Alec's table was practically nonexistent, Jon smiled faintly. "I'll do it, but not a lot." He said, and Richie would be lying if he said that his heart didn't soar. 

=====

After dinner, which went by surprisingly quick, Alec excused himself because he was going to go get fresh air. "Any of you lucky gents want to join me?" He asked cheerfully, his eyes flitting over Tico and David, who had scrounged up a box of dominos and were currently stacking them around the apartment, to Richie and Jon, who had somehow gotten dragged into cleaning up the kitchen. Tico was thankfully a clean cooker, and there was very little to scrub besides the dishes. 

Richie looked up from the plate he was drying. "Nah. It's freezing out there, man." He replied, putting the plate away and starting on a new one. Jon paused, having been drying his hands, and decided that it wouldn't hurt. "Sure, let me just grab my jacket." He moved toward the coat rack, carefully stepping over the line of dominoes that were nearly placed on the floor, and wondered why Alec looked so pleased all of a sudden. He didn't ask, mainly because there would probably be some ridiculous reason, and followed Alec out the door and down the numerous flights of stairs. It was dark in the building, with only the faintest light to guide them down the steep steps and out onto the sidewalk. It was undeniably true that it was cold, and each breathe was visible in front of their faces. 

Alec looked at Jon with a smile. "I'm happy for you, Jonny. We were really starting to get concerned, I was even making calls to this psychologist that my cousin knows." He said, "Richie seems to really be making a difference, you guys are really close." 

Jon wondered if Alec was trying to say something that he couldn't quite find the words for, or if he was just being paranoid. "Thanks, Al. He's really nice guy, very...considerate." Beyond considerate, really, though Jon was already feeling like there was something going on just below the surface of the conversation and didn't want to add anything else just in case Alec was becoming suspicious. "Dave told me you went on a date with somebody at work, how'd it go?" 

Wincing, Alec shook his head. "Disataroust, I tell you. It doesn't matter anyways, I'd rather have known now than farther down the road, but getting yelled at because I asked her to go cheap on the menu is a rather horrific way of discovering that your date has some issues." 

Jon could imagine. He placed his hand on Alec's shoulder. "That sucks, but just think, there's plenty of more fish in the sea for you who will appreciate you more." 

"True. Anyhow, I just wanted to say again, I'm proud of you, and I need you to remind me to thank Richie for being such a great guy." Alec said. 

Jon nodded. "I'm gonna have to tell him myself." 


	26. Chapter 26

The next several weeks were spent in a chaotic whirlwind. 

They had a record deal, so that was number one, but now, they needed an agent, and, eventually they got one. Doc McGhee was a beady-eyed little man whom nobody was too fond of, whether that be due to his personality or just a general air of unpleasantness, nobody knew, but the fact that they were one step closer to fulfilling this dream was too great to ponder at the fact that nobody liked Doc, at all, and that it was probably concerning that there was a group dislike regarding him. But they persevered, instead opening for multiple showcases under their new name 'Bon Jovi' that had been suggested by a woman named Pamela, a name that everybody was a little less enthusiastic about but it wasn't like a name was their main concern. 

It was their music. 

Richie and Jon spent hours upon hours writing lyrics, coming up with songs, crumbling up prices of paper, scratching out the words that didn't work, trying to come up with melodies and chords that didn't work out in the end. It was exhaustive work, made even worse by the fact that Jon was both a workaholic and perfectionist who didn't take the slightest mistake for an answer. It wasn't an uncommon sight for somebody to stumble upon them, hunched together wherever they may be, trying to make do with what they had. Because both of their own houses were loud and nobody could concentrate worth a damn in either, Alec's apartment became a songwriting haven. The neighbors were relatively quiet, and the only interruptions came from the rest of the guys going in and out. But, for the most part, it was just them, putting their minds together to write songs that would hopefully be included in their first album, which everybody was more than a little worried about having to record. But they were still a ways away from that. 

Looking up from where he'd been debating a song lyric, tossing it back and forth in his head like a tennis ball, Jon smiled faintly at the sight that awaited him. They'd been working tirelessly for weeks, so it was hardly surprising to see that Richie had fallen asleep, his legs dangling off the arm of the couch, his arms slack from where they'd been crossed over his chest. Jon looked fondly at the sight, standing and grabbing a blanket that Alec had tossed over a chair and placing it over Richie, feeling unexpectedly affectionate at the sight. He had been very insistent on getting everything done, admittedly, so Richie's nap was well deserved after all they'd gotten done so far. 

But Jon's work wasn't done yet. Far from it, in fact. There were many things that needed to be done, and as he finished tucking the blanket around Richie, he gathered his papers and pencil and went into the kitchen so that the rustling and scratching and muttered profanities wouldn't wake Richie up. He pulled a stool over and sat at a counter, looking down at his notebook and thinking about the fact that he felt like a high schooler again, spending hours pouring over a piece of paper that would probably end up failing anyways. It was amazing how far they'd all come from then, though. High school had come and gone, and now they were into the next step in life. 

Thinking back to the night when Richie had first approached him, Jon wondered if they'd have gotten so far so fast if not for Richie, who provided a sort of charm and finished the missing puzzle that was their band. Looking back to how things had been for him during that time, Jon wondered if _he_ would've gotten so far if not for Richie. He'd been at a particularly rough spot during that time. 

" _Now that I've got you in my sights, I can't take anymore sleepless nights..."_ Jon mumbled under his breathe, tapping the end of the pencil against the countertop. He and Richie were almost done with this song, if it went well, and then, well...they'd be onto the other songs, diving into pages and pages and pages, filled with words that didn't make sense because half of the time they were sleep deprived and the other half they were just writing down whatever made sense in the moment, uncaring of how it'd work when it was reread. 

The sound of the door being unlocked startled him, and Jon looked up just in time to warn and hush Tico, who looked confused and suitably amused once he realized what had happened. "Well, doesn't that just melt your heart." Tico whispered in Jon's ear, chuckling at the irritated look he got in return. There were grocery bags piled high, dangling from his arms, and Jon slipped off his stool to help him. 

"What'd you do, buy enough food for the whole state?" Jon said, setting the bags down on the countertop and, very carefully, pulling the food out, careful not to make too much noise. Tico smiled, "No, but I'm pretty sure I sold out the entire store. David nearly cried because I forgot to buy him yogurt. _Yogurt._ I feel like I'm a mom, again." He groaned, rolling his eyes for effect. 

Jon pat his arm. "Shall I run you a hot bath?" 

"You might as well. My back is killing me- is that your love song?" Tico pointed to the paper that Jon had been writing on. He swiped it before anything could be done to stop him and briefly skimmed the page before Jon managed to grab it and fold it into a small square. "Like I'd just leave it in the middle of a crowded kitchen. No, Rich and I have been working on this baby for a few weeks." He smiled proudly. "It's going great. How bad is your back?" 

Shrugging, Tico began to sort through the boxes. "Like I've been carrying around a bunch of groceries and sleeping on a hard-ass bed. I don't think lugging around equipment all day is helping." He placed his hands on the small of his back and stretched backwards, wincing as he did so. "You don't know how heavy drum sets are until you're lifting them every few days." 

"Well, one of these days, you won't have to do the heavy lifting." Jon replied. 'Hopefully' was implied but not said, too risky to state outright as if an unsaid fear kept anybody from saying such a thing. 

It was a superstition. Ever since things had been moving in a downhill motion, records and agents and potential albums, the group had been weary of saying things that might jinx them. Instead, they relied on themselves to carry the weight of the unspoken fears and insecurities that plagued their burgeoning music career. Tico hummed, "I certainly hope so. So, how have you be-" He paused, tilted his head, and frowned all of a sudden. "Do you hear that?" 

Jon listened for any noise and realized that somebody was walking up the stairs at the speed of a freight train. "Ah, shit. Is that David?" He asked nobody in particular. And then he realized ' _Oh yeah, that is David.'_ And quickly sprinted toward the door just as said blonde appeared, his mouth open in greeting. Jon pressed his finger to his lips and motioned frantically to Richie, trying to convey what he meant. 

Behind them, Tico was laughing as quietly as he could. 

"He's _sleeping."_ Jon emphasized, grabbing David's arm and pulling him into the kitchen. David followed dutifully, stealing one of the chips that Tico was eating when he passed by. "Guess what I did today." He said cheerfully. "Hmm?" Jon raised his eyebrows, interested. David practically beamed and spread his arms out wide, "I went to the Aquarium!" 

Tico shushed him this time, glancing back at Richie while David winced at his excitable manner. Thankfully, it was all for nothing, as Richie slept through it all the same. "Sorry, I'm sorry." David apologized once the coast was clear. "It's okay, no harm, no foul." Jon reassured him. 

===

By the time Alec came back from his job later that night, Richie had woken up, groggy and dazed, but significantly more lively than he'd been lately. 

"A little nap did you good." Jon said to him. Richie smiled and pressed closer against Jon's body, "It was the best nap I've ever had in my life. In fact... " He adjusted so that he could whisper in Jon's ear without being overhead by Alec, who was nearby and engaged in a debate over what movie they were going to watch. "I dreamed about you." 


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was in a very humorous mood when I wrote this, so warnings abound.

1984

\-------

"Do you like it? I made it myself." Tico said with a touch of pride in his voice, hands folded, practically vibrating in his chair. That was the third time he'd asked in the last hour, and Richie was starting to get a little freaked out. There was something inherently creepy with knowing that your every movement was being carefully scrutinized by one _very_ persistent drummer who was now quite invested in his cooking prospects. Richie swallowed and nodded, "Just like I said earlier, this is the chicken I've ever had." It wasn't really, but the idea of seeing disappointment in Tico's eyes wasn't one that Richie was interested in having happen. It was a very burnt chicken, and it tastes slightly like charcoal, but all in all, Richie liked it. Even if chewing it proved a rather ambitious difficulty. Tico leaned back in his chair, looking visibly relieved. "I know that it's not my best dish. Spaghetti is much easier than chicken, I tell you." 

Richie was surprised to hear that. "Oh, really? I'd expect the opposite, to be honest." Then again, he's never cooked either. Baking has always seemed easier, and Richie didn't even particularly liked to bake, at all. He only did it because his mother was quite hopeless in that area and _somebody_ needed to bake Richie's father a cake. Tico nodded and started playing with a napkin, almost systematically tearing it to shreds. "You gotta worry about Salmonella when you cook Chicken. No diseases have ever been found in a pack of spaghetti noodles and a jar of tomato sauce." He paused and contemplated that. "As far as I know, anyways."

The door opened, and Alec, who was drenched in water, appeared, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. He looked at them both, standing in his kitchen, and then shook his head. "I feel like this isn't even my apartment anymore." There was a tone of weary exasperation in his voice. He pulled off his shoes and set them aside. "And this is starting to feel very domestic. Tico, you're cooking and-and David seriously got me a 'welcome home' mat? He's lost it, once and for all." Alec looked down at said mat, and closed his eyes, seeming to be praying for more patience. Tico furrowed his eyebrows, "What happened to you?" He asked. He quickly tossed what remained of the napkin in the trash and took one look approving look at Richie and his plate of chicken before moving off to go stand near Alec, who scoffed. "I'm just a little worried that next thing I know, I'll be coming home to you wearing a kiss the cook apron and David's going to be showing me his goddamn report card or whatever kids do nowadays." He responded. Tico sighed, "I'm sure Dave had your best intentions when he got you that mat. And I was referring to the fact that you look like you just went on splash mountain, but that works too." 

"Oh." Alec said, sounding surprised. He looked down at his sodden clothes and scowled. "Some asshole in a range rover ran over a puddle of rainwater that I just so happened to be standing near while I was coming home. Stupid bastard probably didn't even realize it." He accepted a towel that Richie handed to him with a quick nod in thanks. 

Tico watched as Alec tried, quite awkwardly, to dry himself off. Richie let the older man place his hand on Richie's shoulder so that he could get the underside of each of his feet. "Speaking of which, or similarly, anyway, what smells good? And faintly like somebody burnt it?" Alec said, looking between his two friends. Tico frowned, "Chicken. I burnt it?" He looked, wide-eyed, at Richie, who shrugged. "My, ah, taste buds aren't very strong." He hurriedly said. Alec smirked and rolled his eyes as he leaned against the wall. "Sure, okay. I'm gonna go take a shower, you guys eat that burnt chicken." Careful to keep water off the rug in the living room, Alec walked away in direction of the bathroom. 

With a faint smile, Tico nudged Richie with his elbow. "I do, in fact, have a kiss the cook apron." He said, mischeviously. Richie laughed and picked up the abandoned towel, which he threw in the dirty laundry bin. "You should wear that next time you cook, and Dave can do whatever it is he does." 

Richie turned back around to see Tico skeptically poking one of the chickens. "Shit, that does look a little burnt." The drummer said when he turned it over. "How did I not notice that?" He asked nobody in particular, it seemed, sounding incredulous at himself. Suddenly, he turned and pointed his finger at Richie. "It tasted burnt. You lied, didn't you?" He accused. 

The guitarist was already halfway to the door. "I think I'm going to go find Jon." 

" _Richard-"_

"Bye, Teek. It was delicious." Richie ducked behind the door and quickly closed it, laughing to himself. And if he wasn't hearing things, then Tico was laughing, too. 

=====

As it turned out, finding Jon proved quite the difficult challenge, and it was only when he remembered the park that he realized that they was a strong likelihood of his friend, lover-who knew at this point?-being there. 

And sure enough, he was. 

Richie sat down on the bench and rested his head on his hand, calmly and patiently awaiting to be noticed. It was comfortably warm, and the sun felt amazing, a rare day where it wasn't too hot nor too cold, a perfect combination. "If I knew how to draw, then I would just sketch you." Jon eventually said, framing Richie's face from afar with his fingers like he was taking an imaginary picture. It wasn't something that had ever been said between them before, and Richie laughed at that, even if he wasn't sure why he found it funny. "And why would you want to do that?" He asked. 

Smiling, Jon sat up a little bit more. "The sun's shining on you just right, and you look so handsome and at peace, like there's nowhere in the world you'd rather be than here, basking in it." His fingers had temporarily stilled, but they were twitching, as if urging to pick up the pencil again and write. Richie nudged Jon's leg with his foot, "You could probably turn that into a lyric." He replied. 

Jon made a face. "You have no idea how to take a compliment." He said with a small shake of his head. Richie pretended to be offended at that, "Neither do you, mister hypocrite. How the hell are you even supposed to respond to a compliment, anyways? I always feel so conceited when I say 'thank you'." 

Shrugging, Jon looked away and up at the trees, which were shielding him from much of the sun's glare. "Or you could just accept that you're handsome and that it doesn't matter if you _sound_ conceited, it's just a problem if you're actually conceited." He said, like it was that simple. 

Richie scoffed. "That's rich, coming from you. And where did you get that logic from?" He asked. Jon looked at him oddly, and then he smiled. "No, _y_ _ou're_ rich." 

It took a minute to register what had been said. And then Richie groaned. "You did not just deflect our serious conversation with a joke, I'm supposed to be the immature one!" 

Jon lightly danced his fingers on the back of Richie's hand, hidden from plain sight. "Considering what's happened, and all that you've done, I think you've proved yourself to be plenty mature." He replied seriously. Richie felt a warm feeling in his heart at that, and found himself wishing that they were alone, far from sight and prying eyes, and just alone with the blonde at his side. 

Leaning closer, Richie entangled their hands together tightly. "We make an egg-cellent pair." 


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It technically isn't anything explicit but there's a pretty intimate scene in this that takes up the entire second half of this chapter that some of you might wanna skip, if you're not into that.

1984

\---------

With nowhere else to go and nowhere else to be, tired from everything that had been going on, weighing down upon each and every member like a load of bricks, the guys soon found themselves watching a cheesy old VHS of of a horror movie that didn't even have a name, just a bunch of initials written in sharpie. Tico had Dave sleeping on his shoulder, and though he'd been complaining about it a few minutes previously, he seemed to be oddly enjoying it. "Once you get over the snoring, at least." Tico whispered, shifting uncomfortably in the cramped chair. 

Alec smirked. "Do you two need a room?" He teased, leaning back just in time to avoid a flying projectile that had just been launched toward his head. "Don't test me." Tico warned, shaking his finger at Alec, who pretended to shiver. "Oh, I'm shaking." He said with a barely restrained grin. It was their friendship in a nutshell- a lot of teasing, some arguing, but a general rule that they'd defend each other no matter what. Richie frowned and tilted his head as the villain in the movie, an ridiculously overdressed englishman, advanced on the atypical damsel in distress. "I feel like this was made on a two dollar budget." He complained. Nobody in this group had any filmmaking skills whatsoever, but they could've made a much better movie. Jon leaned against Richie with a shrug, "Eh. It was the 60s, what would you expect?" 

"How do you know it was the 60s?" Alec asked. "This horrific disaster doesn't even have a _name."_ He added with a tone of disgust, as if he was forcing the words out. 

Jon shrugged. "The costumes." 

The telephone rang, a loud trilling noise that sent David falling to the floor and Alec lunging across the room to grab it before the sound woke up the occupants of the apartment beside his. Tico jumped at the noise, startled, presumably having been falling asleep himself. Jon couldn't blame him, this was one of the worst movies he'd ever seen, and that was saying something. "Yes? Hello? Oh, hey, what's up-oh, no, that's terrible." Alec said while rolling his eyes. He obviously didn't like whoever was on the other side, talking to him. "For how long? Because that's a real commitment." 

On the television, the damsel was running away, again. Jon wondered how she was doing that in heels, he had a hard enough time walking at a fast speed in boots. Alec nodded to himself, "Yeah, fine, okay, I'll be there." He hung up without a further word and motioned to all of them, who dutifully looked up. "Bad news, men. My friend needs a place to stay for a few days, and it's kinda crowded in here, so. .." He had a point, even if he didn't mean to make one. Tico glanced at his watch, shrugged, and grabbed David by the arm. "I'll get him home." 

David grumbled something in response. 

Richie stood, retrieving his jacket with a sigh. "My parents have company over." He said, irritated. "I don't wanna hear how grown I am now." Jon was sympathetic to his plight. "My parents and brothers went out earlier. They shouldn't be home for awhile, wanna go hang out?"

Alec, who was in the kitchen, dropped something. 

The idea of spending time with Jon, alone, was undeniably one that Richie wanted to enforce. "Sure, let's go." 

They were laying in bed together. 

This, in general, wasn't such an unusual thing. They'd lay together in bed, side-by-side, many times in the months that they'd known each other, but it'd been casual, with chaste kisses traded in between shy touches, a definite change from how they usually handled the few relationships that they'd had previously. Five months had come and gone since the first time they'd met each other, that dreary night becoming so much more, and everybody was exhausted with the work that they'd been doing, writing and beginning their recordings for their upcoming album. Richie was thinking about the slender hand that was rubbing against his thigh, pulling away whenever he turned his head to look at it, and resuming quickly thereafter. It was a gentle touch, but eager, and very enticing. "What are you doing?" Richie finally asked, though he knew perfectly well what was showing on. He was quite enjoying the feeling, light grazes upward before they returned back down. It was producing a warm feeling in his chest that made him want more. Jon huffed, "What's it look like I'm doing?" He replied in his usual mutter, as if any louder would ruin this moment of peace and quiet, a welcome change from the chaos that had been surrounding them ever since they'd gotten an actual agent and started recording for their album. 

Richie laughed, feeling a shiver go up his spine when Jon went back up again, dancing dangerously close. "It sorta feels like you're trying to tickle me." He replied, smiling at the offended look he got in return, all furrowed eyebrows and twisted lips. "I was aiming more for something a bit different." Jon said, but his hand didn't still, for which Richie was immensely grateful. Fingers grazed the inside of Richie's leg, pulling away before he could express how wonderful that felt. They'd been together for, what, four months? So far, sex had been remained a topic that went not talked about because the idea of talking about it like actual adults was possibly a nightmare come true. Maybe there was a unspoken fact that neither of them were ready for that next step in their relationship, but Jon's hand felt so good and Richie was bored and had been ready for this for a while now, but hardly dared to actually say so. 

Jon rolled onto his stomach, supporting himself on his elbows. Richie looked at him, could see the questions dancing in blue eyes, and didn't waste a single moment more. Grabbing Jon by the back of his neck, Richie pulled him down in a searing, slow kiss, feeling remarkably sure of himself in this moment, alone, with nothing to do but everything to say, yet not with words. Far from it. Richie moved onto Jon's neck, pressing feather light kisses against sensitive skin, feeling like they had all of the time in the world. They were alone in the house, and the darkness provided a welcome escape, an offer to disappear into the world that they had skimmed into but never fully explored. "Are you sure you wanna do this?" Jon asked, breaking away, looking at Richie with plain concern. It was a simple question answered by a simple response, a biting kiss that left them both winded and wanting more, a longer delve into what lay beyond. "Why wouldn't I?" Richie asked, still on his back, looking up at the blonde, who was now half on him, half off. Jon shrugged, traced Richie's jawline with his fingers in an briefly casual way. "Just checkin'." He replied, and then they were back at it, enjoying this simple moment for what it was, a simple exploration of each other, languid and slow. 

"Should I lock-ahh-the door?" Jon ducked his head out of way, away from where Richie could get to him. "I'm going to lock the door." He replied to himself, getting out of bed and striding towards said door, plainly ignoring Richie's groan as the 'click' sounded. "You seriously just interrupted me to lock a door?" Richie said, grabbing Jon's wrist and pulling him back down, which succeeded in a lot of things, mainly involving Jon losing his balance and falling completely on top of him, which hurt, undeniably. Whatever. Richie wasn't losing his grove, even if a bony elbow did end up in his stomach. "Are you-" Jon was interrupted by a kiss, Richie's hand entangled in his hair, pulling him down and effectively ending his words. 

Richie, before he was noticed, wrapped one of his arms around Jon's waist and flipped them, so that he had the upper hand, ignoring the startled yelp and, then, a string of curses, that followed. He went back down, smiling rather helplessly at the look being given to him. "My turn." Richie said lowly, nipping at Jon's bottom lip with his teeth, enjoying the little hitch in Jon's breathing as he did so. 

The clothes were becoming rather obstructive. Richie, hesitant to break away again, kicked his shoes off and started to try and get his shirt and pants off, which proved a struggle, especially in their position, not wanting to separate. Jon tried to help him for a minute, before just tugging off his own pants, wriggling out of them and tossing them in some vague direction. "Your shirt?" Richie said upon seeing that Jon still had his shirt on. "Yeah. I'm sorry, I don't want to take it off." Jon said apologetically, kissing Richie's jaw, smiling lightly, as if to reassure him of something. "Don't be. That's alright." Richie smiled, pressing into Jon's body, oddly enjoying the feeling of stubble against his cheek. 

"Do you know how handsome you are?" Jon said, his fingers curled tight around Richie's shoulders. "How absolutely gorgeous you look?" 

Not used to the sudden compliment, Richie suddenly felt embarrassed and gave a nervous chuckle. "Thanks." He said awkwardly, cringing at himself internally. Jon pulled a face, "When I say you're the most attractive guy I've ever seen, with a personality to match, I mean it." 

Richie shrugged, "I don't think your lying, it's just-" He broke off, not knowing how to put it. Jon placed his hands on either side of Richie's face, smoothing his thumbs over Richie's tanned skin. "When I first saw you, my first thought was that you had the most perfect face I'd ever seen. Your nose, your cheekbones, and your _eyes,_ I thought you must've struck a deal with the devil to get those looks." Pulling Richie down for a searing kiss, Jon smiled. "Prince Charming doesn't have a single thing on you." He said. 

"Oh, stop it, you flirt." Richie said, unused to hearing those things. Sure, he'd had people compliment him before, but never with such genuine affection. Never like somebody's life depended on each and every word bestowed upon him. Jon laughed, "This is more than flirting, Rich. Much, much more." 

What was the difference? Richie didn't know, and maybe it didn't matter, not here, not now. All that mattered was the man below him and this pleasant feeling in his chest, a warm, persistent humming. "Do you always say these things before you have sex with somebody?"

Jon shook his head. "No." His hands went back to Richie's shoulders, a strangely intimate expression on his face. "Only with the special ones." 


	29. Chapter 29

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Minor sexual encounter at the beginning, you might want to skip.

1984

\--------

Jon felt like all his worries, troubles, fears had melted away. There was something about Richie that had that effect on him, to make the world and everything bad disappear, and be replaced by just pure, intense happiness and a deep affection for this man, who's eyes seemed to hold an eternity within them. It felt amazing to be so close, and Jon wished he could say so, but he didn't think that there were words that could accurately describe how borderline euphoric it felt, so he settled for pressing soft kisses against Richie's jaw, nose, shoulders, hoping to convey this blossoming love, unsure what to make of his feelings but knowing that they were revolving around Richie, around this generous, intelligent, handsome man. "You feel so good." Jon murmured, tracing patterns on Richie's back with his fingers. Richie smiled, shivering slightly as Jon's nails lightly grazed his lower back. "I could say the same about you." He kissed Jon's neck, a series that went from his collarbone to the bottom of his ear. It wasn't regrettable that they'd taken so long, but it definitely was nice, to have Richie there, nothing standing between them, hands dancing across skin, chilled by the air. 

When those kisses became rougher, when hands started to roam, it was like silent promises. When they began began to push against each other, breathless moans and pleasured whimpers, nails biting into skin, hips bucking. And when it was all over, bright stars and hearts beating, out of breathe, but satisfied beyond belief, Richie lay back down on the other side, his eyes bright, hair spread around his head like a halo. "Well, wasn't _that_ exciting?" He said with a trademark grin. There was something different about him, though it was impossible to tell if it was just Jon's imagination after what they'd just done, or if something was genuinely different. Either way, Jon laughed, his face buried in the pillow. "Most exciting thing I've ever done." He replied, though he wasn't sure if Richie heard him. It didn't matter anyways, all their trouble and everything that came with it was gone, for now, unable to come into their safe place, and they'd be idiots not to take advantage of that.

What they'd just done, it was like an effective sealing of their fates, a promise made into a swear. Though Jon couldn't pinpoint _why_ he felt this way, just like he couldn't have told you what made him agree to let Richie try out for the band in the first place, he knew it all the same. Jon knew that Richie being part of the band, this inner circle of desperate hopes and dreams that were starting to come into reality, was one of the best decisions he'd ever made. Every moment with Richie, even the bad ones, were like something beyond comprehension, times when their failures seemed like wins, moments when they all got frustrated because of something not sounding right or some other stupid reason, when Jon himself felt like a fool for even wanting this dream in the first place, Richie would look back, and smile, and Jon would want nothing more than to keep going, because this dream had managed to garner support in the form of the only people who Jon could truly call his friends and he'd be damned if he gave up and dragged them down with him. Maybe it was Richie's charm, or just an innate ability to make you keep going, no matter how horrible you felt, because there was somebody at the end of each dark road who shined so bright it was almost impossible to see. With that thought, Jon shook his head. ' _I'm becoming sappy.'_ He thought, and that realization didn't irritate him as much as he thought it would.

"Are you awake?" Richie asked, poking Jon in the ribs with a curious finger. Jon slapped his hand away, and listened as the guitarist retreated with a chuckle. "You could've just asked." He replied all the same, rubbing his hand where he'd been poked. Jon felt the thin cotton of his shirt, and could feel an expected rush of shame. Richie just shrugged and pushed himself up, leaning against the headboard and looking at the wall opposite of them. "So, based on your experience, how would you rate me?" 

Startled, and a little worried, Jon furrowed his eyebrows and looked up at his friend, or whatever Richie had become in these five months. It wasn't easy to say, or maybe he was just too afraid to say what they truly were. "What are you talking about?" Jon said, even though he knew, mostly because he was a little confused. Richie looked completely serious when he looked down, and that only made it even more worrying. "Y'know, one is that you'd never let me touch you again, much less get naked with me in bed. Five is you were pleased with the experience, but my technique could use a little work. Ten is that you'd definitely choose me as your prime fucking experience, and that you'd gladly do me again. Go ahead, take your time." Richie folded his hands and rested them on his chest as he finished talking. 

Jon stared for a minute, wondering what he'd gotten himself into. As promised, Richie stayed quiet while Jon tried to figure out what he was supposed to say, and kept a neutral expression the whole time. "I think you were a four. Not the worst person I've ever been with, but your bedside manner is horrible." He finally replied , fighting hard to keep himself from laughing at the horrified look on Richie's face. "Oh, give me a break. Your opinions are skewed." He paused. "And you're not romantic. Like, at all." 

"You literally just asked me to rate you." Jon said, sitting up and leaning against Richie, suddenly wanting to be close again. "Seriously, Ten out of ten, would do again." 

Richie looked pleased. "I knew it. Nobody can resist me." He said with a tone of triumph. He wrapped his arm around Jon and pulled him closer, sharing body heat and warmth. Jon smiled. "Not even me." He whispered, finding humor and, maybe, happiness in that. He'd known right from the start that Richie was definitely special, but there was no way he could've predicted this turn of events. 

For a few more moments, they sat there, just enjoying each other and the peace. It was with great regret that Jon had to pull away, smiling apologetically as he did so. "My parents will be home soon." He explained, standing up and beginning to gather his clothes. Jon wished he could spend hours upon hours with Richie, just sitting there against each other, but the last thing they needed was to get caught. Richie groaned but nonetheless reached down and retrieved his pants. "I feel like a teenager." He said. "And all gross. Usually, there'd be a shower involved in this." 

Jon grimanced. "Yeah, but there's no time." He pulled on a jacket and smoothed down his hair, which was sticking up in a bunch of random directions. Realistically, Jon worried that this may be a constant occurrence in their lives, having to hide their relationship and pretend that they were nothing more than just friends, but resolved not to worry about it yet. Behind him, Richie was retrieving his shoes, and sat down on the bed so that he could tie them. "Joking aside, I really enjoyed that. You were, are, amazing." He said seriously, looking up at Jon, as if for confirmation. Confirmation that came in the form of a sudden, hurried, but nonetheless loving kiss. 

=====

Two days later saw them trying to record songs. 

Tico, with great trepidation, tapped one of his drumsticks lightly on his leg, as he was prone to do during fits of anxiety. It was cold in the studio they were in, and very loud. From somewhere above, loud thumps could be heard, like somebody was dribbling a basketball, and it was starting to get increasingly headache-inducing. Not to mention that Alec and David were engaged in a loud debate regarding whatever latest thing that got stuck in their odd little brains. Meanwhile, Richie and Jon were making pretty suspicious eye contact that Tico was pretty sure confirmed that they were together, at least to some degree. It was still a little jarring to think of them together, but Tico had long gotten over any prejudice he might have felt toward that sort of thing and was just glad that his two friends had found some sort of love in each other, and that was the best thing he could have ever wished for them. 

Looking across the the room, Tico could see Doc on the other side of the glass, and felt an unexpected weariness that had nothing to do with his natural dislike of people he didn't know. There was just something about him that screamed trouble, and Tico liked to think he had a natural instinct for people that were no good. There was just something about Doc McGhee, a look in his eyes, that suggested trouble. And as smart as his friends were, Tico was well aware that they were very dumb and needed his guidance, no matter how much they drove him crazy.

Especially a certain keyboardist who was approaching Tico very, _very_ quickly. 

"Tico, Teek-Buddy, I need you to settle something." David said conversationally. "Something's been bothering me and I just gotta ask- Am I annoying? Do I irritate you, like, really bother you?" 

And Tico smiled, and pat David's shoulder reassuringly. "Nope, not at all." 


	30. Chapter 30

1984

\--------

David knew that Tico wouldn't lie to him. After all, they had been friends for so many years, well, like two years, actually, but the point still stood that they had been friends for a long time and that it would be pointless to lie now when Tico hadn't said so much as a white lie during their years for knowing each other. But then again, David could admit, as he looked behind him at where Doc was sitting with his feet propped up on the table, why in the hell would their agent lie and say that Tico felt that way if he didn't? David would've liked to believe that his friend was the one who was being truthful here, but he just couldn't make his mind up, and as he uselessly picked at a single key on his keyboard, his excitement suddenly dulled, there would be no telling. Not yet, anyways. David wouldn't ruin the experience for the rest of the guys, but as soon as they had parted ways, maybe as soon as they were finished, or perhaps later on, David would ask Tico just to make sure. They always walked back home together, anyways. David knew that his friend would probably get irritated, but the idea of spending any more time with the knowledge that somebody was lying to him was like torture. 

Maybe he was annoying. Maybe the guys had just kept quiet about it so they wouldn't hurt his feelings. David looked at them, at Tico, who had never said a white lie, and at Alec, who would've already said something about it, and at Jon, who was too blunt, and at Richie, who was too nice. This was supposed to a fun day, maybe an exhausting one, but fun because they were all gathered and about to start recording their album and David had been looking forward to this since he was a kid, but now there was an ache in his heart and maybe he was afraid to hear the truth, but David would much rather know the truth than live the rest of his life not knowing. 

Alec appeared by his side, sitting down on the bench beside where David had been delegated, and for once, there was no humor in his dark gaze. "What's wrong with you?" Alec asked, lifting the strap of his guitar over his head and placing the guitar on his lap. David shrugged, not sure if he should ask Alec because that would just lead to whole new bunch of problems. Tico was one person, and much easier to keep quiet on this situation. "Nothing." David muttered, stopping the useless plucking of the keyboard and crossing his arms. Out of the corner of his eye, David noticed that Tico was watching like a hawk, suddenly quiet and intensely still. Alec scoffed, "Don't lie to me. What happened? I won't tell anyone." There was an enticing tone in his voice, as if dangling a treat in front of a puppy to get it to do a trick. It didn't work. "Yes, you will. Remember when I broke my finger and you promised not to tell and then went and told Jon? Because I do." David replied. He was purposefully not looking at Alec, weary of seeing his face and falling apart, confessing all of his secrets, fears, flaws just because Alec could have that effect on people, make them trust him because he looked harmless. "That's because Jon's good at fixing problems that aren't his. Look, I won't tell anybody this time. Your fingers are all in working order, aren't they?" Alec said, clearly trying to get him to loosen up, but David held tight, knowing that laughing would just make him feel worse. 

Alec sighed. "Dave, it's like there's a black cloud over you. I don't like it. So you better tell me or I'll go and get Jon." He said, lowering his voice because the sound of their talking had reached Jon, and now there were two pairs of eyes watching them. "No, I'm fine. I don't wanna talk 'bout it, right now." David said, hoping that the tone of his voice, the sudden, sharp tone, would be enough to make Alec leave, and though the older man did stand and walk away, it wasn't due to anything about what David had said. Rather, a man wearing a baseball cap had just walked through the door, and there was something about him that suggested an important role. 

David sat up a little straighter, resolving that he couldn't think of it right now. And though the ache in his heart was still there, it wasn't important. 

As Alec walked past Jon, the blonde hooked his elbow and dragged him into a corner, far from where anybody could hear them. Alec went obediently, like he'd been expecting it. "What's wrong with Dave?" Jon asked, his voice full of concern. "Is he okay?" The hand on his elbow tightened, almost briefly, before Jon moved away. Alec shrugged, "No, but I don't know what's wrong. But he's not acting like himself. He was talking to me, and then he left to use the bathroom, talked to Tico, and now it's like he's all depressed." Alec looked back at the subject of their conversation, who seemed to be in his own world. Jon was quiet for a minute, and then he nodded. "Okay. I'll talk-" Before he could say anything else, Alec shook his head and interrupted him. "No, don't worry about it. Well, not as much, anyways. Look, I'll handle it. It's probably nothing." But even as the words left his mouth, Alec didn't believe what he was saying. David didn't just get upset over nothing, he usually just brushed it off and seemed to forget about it. Jon narrowed his eyes, and then he sniffed. "Fine. But be gentle, and don't hesitate to come to me if you need help." He said firmly. Alec nodded and walked away, standing beside Richie, who had thankfully been occupied by something else. 

Jon looked at back at David, his concern still rising, knowing that the keyboardist was perpetually unbothered by the world around him, and concerned as to what could've made him look so much like somebody had said something awful to him, his usual smile gone, the excitement and happiness having disappeared. Jon considered what Alec had said, thinking about his words, carefully enunciated, and finally, wondered if it'd be best to just let Alec handle this. It wasn't a little known fact that Jon was only good at solving the problems, not figuring out what the problem actually was, and now that he was thinking of it, Tico looked suspicious as well. 

That reassured him, somewhat. Tico was arguably the most sensitive of the group besides David, as much as he was prone to saying things that nobody wanted to hear, and seeing the look on his eyes told Jon more than any words could. Jon hated not knowing what was going on, and hated even more the look on David's face, but wondered if he was fit to actually say anything. Alec seemed insistent on this being kept a secret, and so, even though the need to know what was going on was quite overwhelming, Jon resolved to keep an eye on the situation from afar.

===

Richie was tossed a pair of headphones. They were heavier than expected, and very hard, like they were made of steel. "Ow." He said pointedly, but the guy either didn't hear him, or didn't care. Richie huffed, turning the headphones over in his hands, wondering why a _normal_ pair of headphones couldn't suffice. "We're going to be much louder than usual, and this time, it's in a very small room." Tico explained suddenly, without being asked. "Plus, if somebody drops something or a car goes off, then we won't hear it and get distracted, though the audio will be all fucked up."

That made sense. Richie nodded his thanks, feeling, for the first time, a bit of nervousness. But within that nervousness was an eagerness, a want to get this over with, onto the next part of the journey. He deserves this- they all did. For years, they'd been nothing but dreamers, but now, in this cramped studio, they were more. They were an actual band, and soon enough, there would be fans, and fame, and fortune. 

But first, they had to play.

The man in the baseball cap disappeared, closing the door behind him and then reappearing beside Doc, who nodded to the producer. Richie wondered what was the going on through the other side of the glass, the technical side, the part that he, with any lucky, wouldn't get involved in. The producer messed with a few of the switches that were on the board in front of her. Doc leaned toward in his chair so that he was more or less sitting instead of laying. "Are you all ready? Just follow what I say, I won't steer you wrong." 

Oh, Richie hoped so. 

=====

What was the word for beyond happy? 

Utterly ecstatic, over the moon. Tico wasn't an emotional person by any stretch, but even he couldn't keep a smile off of his face as, later that night, the group gathered around in Alec's apartment, laughing and talking and recounting the events that had played out earlier. Even though he was laughing along with everybody else, David still looked a little in his own head, and he wasn't as rowdy and loud as per usual for him. Tico kept an eye on him the whole time, and though there was laughter and smiles, they were always followed by frowns and worried glances around him. It was worrying, but Tico preserved, watching him closely instead and wondering when he should bring the problem was. He'd obviously have to wait until they were alone, but should it be tonight? Or maybe he should wait. 

"Dave, are you okay? You're a little quiet." Richie said, leaning against Jon affectionately. "You're not acting like yourself." As much as he did have a point, Tico had been hoping that he didn't either didn't notice it or just didn't bring it up. Jon winced and glanced at David, who just smiled slightly, a far cry from his usual smiles, bright and and shining like a star. "I'm alright." He said. It was clear from his tone and eyes that he was lying. Jon and Alec exchanged knowing glances. "If you don't want to talk, then you don't have to. But we're here, and ready to listen, if you want to." Jon said, standing and briefly patting David on the shoulder. "Richie, you wanna come with me? I'm going for a, uh, smoke." Tico could see that Jon was pointedly jolting his head toward the door. Catching on, Richie nodded and stood, walking after Jon quickly. "Sure. Actually, I need to be some...things from the corner store." 

Taking his chance, Alec grabbed his jacket and walked out of the kitchen, looking hurried. "I need some fresh air. It's so stuffy in here, so, yeah , we'll be a few minutes." He said, ducking down and resting his hand on the back of David's neck. "Don't be such a hardass, Dave." He whispered. 

The small group left in a rush, shutting the door firmly, as if in a silent statement. 

====

"Alright, spill." Tico demanded. He looked David square in the eyes and waits patiently, calmly, with his eyebrows raised expectantly. There was something about Tico that demanded respect and answers, an almost intimidating factor about him, but David had never feared him, so perhaps that was the wrong word. "There's nothing to talk about." He replied softly. "I was just wondering, you know." Except he wasn't. 

David had come to a conclusion on the few hours that had passed. In the time spent plucking at keys, repeating the same melodies over and over to get the proper sound, he'd been thinking. What Doc had said, has it been true? It seemed like it. After all, how could David's friends not get irritated by his constant talking and inability to shut up? And it wasn't like what he was saying actually contributed to the conversation, they were just words to fill in gaps, and the only reason that nobody had told him to shut up yet was because they didn't want to hurt his feelings. And David as grateful for that, but it hurt, knowing how irritating he'd been. He wanted to apologize, but didn't know how well that'd go. "I know that you're lying. Listen, David, I know that I tease you a lot when it comes to how you act and all that shit, but I wouldn't change you for the world, you know that?" Tico grabbed David by the shoulders, lightly squeezed them. 

The words were like warmth. "Yeah, but-but, I talk too much. And you don't like that, so I'll try to be quiet more, if you want that." David sort of shrugged, pursing his lips tightly. It'd be hard, sure, but he could do it, for his friends. Tico shook his head and scoffed. God, David could be so stubborn sometimes. "I don't want you to stop talking, though. I enjoy hearing you go on and on about the most ridiculous things, and sometimes you drive me up a walk but I enjoy it." Tico smiled, hoping to prompt David into doing the same, and sure enough, David admitted defeat and gave one of his genuine smiles. "Whoever put that idea in your head was wrong, and you don't have to tell me who they are, but they were not right in the absolute slightest and I hope that the next time they or anybody else says something like that, you tell me so I can kick their ass into next week, deal?" 

David tossed his head back and laughed. "Oh, stop it, you're making me blush." He tossed his arms around Tico and pulled him into a tight bear hug. Tico groaned, hugging him back. "I guess my speech got through that thick head of yours."


	31. Chapter 31

1984

\---------

The next few days were torture. Richie was pretty sure that hell would be more merciful than this, but, of course, couldn't be sure. The point that he was trying to make still make sense. During this time, they spent their time going between the studio where they did the same songs over and over because the previous recordings didn't sound good and then returned to searching for a place to live because they were adults that needed to move out of their parents' houses once and for all to pursue this ridiculous dream of theirs. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad, except for the fact that Alec seemed to have made up his mind that this album was going to be a flop and he was going to have to go back to selling women's shoes at the mall and Tico's temper was at the very brink of exploding like a volcano and nobody wanted to be near him when that happened. Jon had hay fever but refused to stay home despite literally making his allergies worse and, to top it off like a cherry on the lopsided cake, David kept making self deprecating comments like that was his new joke of choice, which was starting to irritate Tico. Richie was just worried that, one of the days, something will happen and it would send his friends over the edge. He had an inkling that one of them would go on a killing spree and that the others would help that person. He seemed to be the only one in a relatively good mood anymore, and even that was starting to wear thin. 

He said so early one morning when he, Jon, and the other guys were meeting up for breakfast to discuss the mood because that's what adults did-calmly talk out their problems. The other three hadn't gotten there yet, and so Richie just ended up ranting and probably annoying the family behind them but not caring. Jon pat his shoulder and then, as if he knew that wasn't enough, took Richie's hand and squeezed it tightly. There was a stretched silence between them, and Richie just focused on the food, stabbing a scrambled egg violently with the fork and accidentally scraping the prongs against the glass. "Sorry, sorry." He whispered, catching the wince that Jon fought to hide. "This is all a goddamn mess. What made me think we could do this?" Dropping the fork entirely, Richie buried his face in his hands, wandering what this was starting to do to him. 

Giving up had never been in Richie's nature but, then again, neither was being in a committed relationship with another man. Things changed, though maybe not for the better. "Hey, let's not go down that path just yet." Jon said softly. "It's not that time yet. Everybody goes through a rough patch in their careers, especially when they want to make music. Tony says that it's normal, because we're just getting out feet up underneath us." Pausing to cough, Jon cleared his throat and reclaimed one of Richie's hands, uncaring to the fact that they were in a semi crowded diner. "You're just stressed. Naturally. Trust me, in a year's time, we'll be famous, and you'll be wondering how you could've ever felt doubt." 

It was said in mock confidence. An imitation of knowledge. Richie nodded, suddenly aware of how many people were looking at them with sharp, weary eyes. Jon must've noticed too, because he carefully disentangled their hands, which were hidden, out of sight, but anybody could've noticed how close they were sitting, maybe catching little snippets of conversation. Richie wondered if that would come back to haunt them, like any bad memory might, in the coming years. If they'd build themselves up, only to tumble down because they weren't careful enough. 

"Are you alright? You're not usually the one who's doubtful." Jon said, pulling apart a piece of toast in a way that seemed almost habitual. It could've been either due to the fever, or the dreaded _other thing,_ but either way, it made Richie's stomach twist and the eggs didn't seem so appetizing anymore. Shrugging, Richie forced himself to eat. They weren't exactly rich, and the eggs had cost two dollars more than they did previously. "Tired. I've got a headache, too." Richie replied. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Tico's car pull into a parking spot. "Oh, would you look at that. The brigade has arrived." 

Jon smiled. "Do you have a blindfold that I can borrow?" Laughing at his own joke, Jon shook his head and dropped the bread back into his plate. Richie saw that Jon had only been eating the crusts, the actual bread part was untouched. "The crust is gross. How the hell can you eat it?" Richie asked, partly in indignation, partly to keep from asking _why_ Jon felt the need to do this to himself.

Reaching for his mug of coffee, Jon briefly looked up as the door opened and the bell above it let out a cheerful jingle. "The crust is the healthiest part, did you know that?" Jon said, taking a sip of his coffee. No, Richie hadn't known that, and he never wanted to have known that. But then again, here he was, learning more and more stuff each day. 

David appears, and immediately sits down opposite of Richie, pressing himself against the wall so that the other two had room to fit. "You two ordered without me?!" He demanded instantly, looking absolutely betrayed. Tico was the next to appear, shaking his head almost regretfully. " _Us,_ David. And they wouldn't have had to, if not for the fact that you lost your shoes." He sat down just as Alec came storming through, a force of nature. David huffed. "Everybody loses their shoes, Teek, I'm not the only one." 

With a scoff, Alec sat down. He picked up a napkin and started tearing it apart systematically. "Yeah, but when normal people lose their shoes, they just grab a different pair. But I think we've already established that you're not normal." He said tonelessly. There was something off about him, and Richie frowned, wondering if he should tell Alec that there was no room for two doubters in this band. Jon beat him to it. "Al, please don't tell me you're about to question the integrity of the band again." He said. 

"Ah, no. Not that. I was actually going to..." Alec trailed off, and Tico gave him a warning look. "Okay, okay! I'm going to apologize to all of you because it's not fair for me to drag you down while you guys are working so hard on the album and trying to make it work." He said in a rush, like the words physically hurt to stay within him any longer. It was the first apology for, well, anything that Richie had ever heard come out of Alec's mouth with such genuine honesty and it shocked him. David looked like he was about to cry. "Oh, Alec, you're working so hard too! Bass looks hard, I tried to play it once but-anyways, we, or, I, forgive you." David glared at Tico, who'd pinched him more than once during his reply. 

Richie nodded. "Yeah, we've all been more than a little stressed with all of this. One step at a time, and we'll get there." 

_One step at a time._

The waitress, who looked displeased with the additions to their booth, appeared. David smiled flirtatiously at her, but his affections were evidently not returned when he was met with a firm frown and the loud chewing of her gum. Alec hid his smile with his hand, looking down at the table, as if that would help him avoid bursting out laughing over the silent exchange going on. "I'll have the house pancakes.....Julia." David leaned foward, squinting to see the name written on the girl's nametag. Richie could practically see Julia's eyes roll out of her skull. "Right. And you two?" She looked at Tico and Alec, who were both avoiding looking her in the eyes. 

"Eggs and bacon. Alec will have the same." Tico said quickly. Julia nodded and left, leaving them once more in their solitude. Richie gently nudged Jon's hand with his fingers and, sure enough, their hands were once more entangled together, held tightly as if they were showing pulled apart. Alec looked angry. "Teek, man, I was going to order something totally different." He said. Tico was sympathetic, but not so much that he looked up from where he was inspecting his fingernails. "Sorry, Al. But David here ordered something that is _much_ more expensive than what we were aiming for, so... " Tico trailed off and shrugged. 

Richie found himself laughing, his previous doubt seeping away like it had never been there at all. "Sleep with one eye open tonight, David." 


	32. Chapter 32

1984

\------

Another day of recording at the studio, another day of singing throats raw and strumming fingers numb. Tico was driving everybody back home, switching channels on the radio with one hand while the other was on the wheel, eyes focused on the road. "I still think I could've done better." David muttered angrily from the back seat, squashed between Alec and Jon, his arms crossed as if he were a toddler about to throw a tantrum. "Did you guys hear me? I sounded awful. I was supposed to do D-flat and _then_ E-flat, but I got 'em all jumbled together." 

Sighing, Alec buried his face in his hands. "You were fine. For pete's sake, I'd get confused if I was hammering so quickly on all those keys too!" He said, obviously done with all the complaining. "Maybe I should've joined that other band." 

Tico rolled his eyes and turned the radio up louder. "There's plenty of bass guitarists to go around, man." He said. Alec scoffed, "There's not a single one like me." Crossing his arms, Alec slumped further down in his seat. Richie leaned foward and tried to change the station, but Tico smacked his hand before he could. Not roughly, but suddenly enough that it made Richie second guess any further attempts. "Duran Duran is lame, Teek. I can only remember one song they've written." Richie said. From behind him, Richie could hear Alec gasp. "You _did not_ just say that!" 

Jon grunted. "You just yelled in my ear, asshole." 

"Huh? Oh, sorry, Jon, anyways, Duran Duran is one of the greatest rock band of all time and saying anything otherwise is a goddamn felony." Alec said firmly. Richie laughed, "Do you know what a felony is, 'Lec?" He asked, having fun teasing his friend. Alec kicked the back of Richie's seat in retaliation, and Tico scowled. " **Do not** even think about putting your dirty boots of my upholstery again, you ruffian. Did your parents teach you any manners?" 

David cackled. "Did you just call him a ruffian?" 

Looking very much like he wanted to jump out of the car, Tico's hands briefly tightened on the steering wheel. "This car is very important to me." Tico took a sharp left. "I'm still trying to pay the bills for this thing, and none of you better do that again otherwise I'll...do something." 

"Wooo _h,_ I'm terrified!" Alec smirked, but he didn't do it again, and that's all that seemed to matter to Tico, who visibly relaxed. "When are we going to have to go back to the studio again? My fingers still hurt, and I was using a pick." Shaking out his hand for effect, Alec looked at Jon, who sneezed in response. "Uh. Two days, three, if my allergies don't calm down. I sound like I'm plugging my nose." 

Tico pulled over to the side of the street as they arrived at a small little house. David retrieved his backpack and pat Tico on the shoulder, "If I had money, I would tip you, man. Thanks, I'll see you all later!" He exited the car quickly, slamming the door behind him and jogging up to the door. Tico put the car back into drive, and pulled away from the curb, humming along to the song that was on the radio that Richie didn't recognize. "Hey, Jon, my parents are still at work, you wanna hang out?" He asked, trying to sound casual, like he was just asking a friend to come and talk for a little bit. 

Jon smiled, "Sure. Let's do it." 

"Are you fine walking home?" Tico asked.

Jon shook his head, "I'm going to get a bus. The old lady who works the bus that goes around likes me and let's me on for half-price. Plus, she's lonely. We talk about things." He replied. 

The mental image of Jon and some old lady who drove a bus talking about things like the economy was hilarious to Richie, who bit his tongue to prevent himself from laughing. "What do you two talk about? Is she old enough to have been around when Elvis was?" That was a serious question. 

"I think she saw him once or twice. We mainly talk about life and stuff, the purpose of people being on earth, I guess you could call it." Jon answered in an indifferent tone. 

Tico pulled up to Alec's apartment building, idling in the middle of the street as Alec unbuckled his seatbelt. As if he couldn't get even more motherly already, Tico had a strict rule of keeping your seatbelt on unless the car was completely off. Richie knew that he'd make a great dad someday. Alec opened the door and grabbed his jacket, sliding out of the car and waving. "I'll see you all in hell." He called out before walking away. 

Richie was ashamed to say he laughed at that. 

====

Tico dropped them off twenty minutes later. He looked immensely relieved to see them go, and, to be honest, Richie couldn't say he blamed the poor man. Tico was probably getting grey hairs just because of how stressful making sure nobody killed each other, or themselves. "Be safe, both of you!" Tico yelled, ignoring the irritated looks that the neighbors have him in response. Richie thought about what an odd thing to say that was, but just nodded and raised his hand in goodbye, watching as the drummer drove off. 

Jon looked at the car as it disappeared in the distance. He was squinting in the bright sun, blazing, yet the air was cold as ice. "What if he knows?" He said, brushing away his face as it swept into his face. 

Richie turned to look at the blonde, startled. "Where did that come from?" He asked at the sudden question. The possibility of the group, or at least Tico, knowing was very unlikely. They'd been doing good at keeping this a secret, hadn't they? Suddenly unsure, Richie looked around, as if he was going to spot David hiding in a tree with a pair of binoculars or something.

Jon tore his gaze away and shook his head, arms crossed. "No, it's stupid." He smiled faintly. "I love it when the sun hits your face like that, makes you look like a painting." As Jon said that, he lowered his voice so as to not be overheard. Richie had never been likened to a painting before, and his first thought was that he was being compared to Mona Lisa. Laughing, he quickly ushered Jon inside, using the key under the flower pot to unlock the door. 

They wasted no time in making their way upstairs. Richie lead the way through the hall, opening his bedroom door and subtly kicking some of the clutter that was on the floor underneath the bed. Jon shut and locked the door behind him. "Welcome to _El reino del Richie."_ Richie said with a grand swooping gesture. Jon raised his eyebrows, " _Este es un reino muy desordenado."_ He replied. 

Richie stared at him for a minute. "Okay, I don't understand a word of what you just said, but I like a guy who knows Spanish." He grinned, walking foward. Grabbing Jon by the back of his head, Richie kissed him, slow and languid, pulling away quickly, teasing him slightly. Jon huffed, rolling his eyes. "Oh, you're doing that now?" He said, reaching up and grasping the side of Richie's face, running his thumb over Richie's cheekbone in a tender, sweet gesture before pulling him into another kiss, this time longer, urging, in a way, tugging Richie closed so that there wasn't a degree of separation between them, enveloping each other in themselves, in the promise of the world falling away until it was just them. 

Slowly, but somehow eager at the same time, an unlikely combination of feelings and emotions, Richie ran his hands over Jon's back, and then going down, until Jon, startled, uttered a short laugh and slapped Richie's chest lightly. "I'm ticklish there." He muttered, sounding defensive and looking suspicious when Richie wiggled his eyebrows and quickly danced his fingers over Jon's sides, tugging the blonde back when he tried to pull away. 

"Will you stop it?" Jon said, redirecting Richie's hands back up. "You are impossible to deal with sometimes." He said with a small shake of his head. Richie almost felt offended, kissing the part of Jon's neck that his jacket and shirt didn't cover, brushing away hair so as to give him more room to deal with. "Me? Hardly." Richie kissed Jon's cheek, and felt hands pulling on his sweatshirt, undoing the zipper and slowly slipping it off Richie's arms until it fell to the floor with a soft noise, barely audible. 

They fell onto the bed, which creaked noisily under their combined weight. Jon's fingers were curled around Richie's shoulders, and his knee was brushing against the guitarist's groin, making him gasp softly.

The tree rustled outside, the neighbor's dog barked, and it didn't disturb them. During moments where it was just each other, the weight of the world fell away, replaced with a calmness and safety that only one another provided. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't you just hate all these cliffhangers?


	33. Chapter 33

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for the short chapters lately :\ I'm swamped with stuff right now.  
> But I hope this one's good.

"You know what my thoughts were when I saw you for the first time?" 

_Yes. No._ "What?" 

Richie was grinning. His hair was pooled all around him like a dark halo, and his fingers were grazing against Jon's thigh, nails scraping lightly against skin. They were both still trying to regain their breathe, chests rising and falling from exertion, a pleasant buzz ringing in their skulls. "That you-" Richie rolled onto his stomach and leaned over Jon, using his elbows to prop himself up. "-were the most attractive person I'd ever seen, and you still are." Richie grabbed Jon's chin and tilted his head up, kissing him a way that seemed almost urgent. Maybe it was, considering that their time was limited. Jon couldn't wait until at least one of them moved out, and hoped that the day would come sooner rather than later. Jon returned the kiss eagerly, not ready to separate - not yet. It was too soon. Leaving this bed, and leaving the man in it, felt like a nightmare that couldn't come true. "When do they get off of work?" Jon asked, loathing the question, as if speaking their names would summon Richie's parents like an urban myth. Richie looked up at the clock, squinting slightly. "Two hours. So, we're good unless one of 'em decides to get off early for once." He replied. 

Two hours. Time sure went by when you were having the time of your life. "You up for round two?" Richie offered, raising his eyebrows curiously. Jon smiled, raised his hands, and ran them through Richie's long, smooth hair. Richie was the sun, and just looking at him made Jon's heart speed up with just the feeling of knowing this man. It was easy to forget when they were together, and it was easy to see why people would die so easily for their lovers, would do anything just to see them happy. 

"I wouldn't dream of saying 'no'." Jon said readily. Being with Richie was a dream, a life beyond. Saying that out loud would probably never happen, but Jon hoped that he could articulate it with his hands instead of his words, eyes instead of noise. Jon dearly hoped that this wasn't just temporary. He usually didn't delve into relationships so fast, but there was something about Richie, something that couldn't be thought, but was there, burning just below the surface. 

Jon hoped that Richie felt the same way, but he didn't ask. Not daring to ruin the moment, relishing this time, together. 

Unlike their previous encounter just a few more minutes prior, they didn't waste the time with teasing, or, rather, Richie didn't, and despite his complaints, Jon kinda missed it. But soon enough, it was washed away by the feeling of _Richie,_ and passion, a fiery, burning emotion. 

===

Richie didn't want to be anywhere else. He could spend an eternity here, and would've too, if not for their dwindling time. But for the moment, Richie tried not to think about that. But Jon seemed to notice, and as moans spilt forth from Richie's lips, Jon took Richie's face between his hands and stared into his eyes determinedly. "What's wrong?" Jon demanded. 

"Is this really what we're talking about right now?" Richie asked, holding them steady. "You're distracted." Jon said plainly, but he fell silent and allowed them to continue. His hands dropped again, and made themselves known elsewhere. Richie shivered in anticipation, erasing all other thoughts except for what was happening now. Leaning down, Richie kissed Jon on his jaw, his cheek brushing against the stubble that was forming there. He was ready for what was to come.

After all, as Richie had discovered during these times, Jon liked to please him in bed. 

===

"Okay, now what's in that handsome head of yours?" Jon was on his side, looking at Richie with an open, earnest expression. It was easy to talk to Jon, usually, but not with such a topic. Richie bit his lip and raised his hand, resting it on the side of Jon's face, fingers entangled in curly hair. "Nothin' that you probably haven't thought about a million times." Richie replied. "I'm not even sure why I'm thinking about it. Let's just forget about it, 'kay? We have an hour, and I don't wanna waste it thinking about what could happen." 

_What is probably gonna happen. It's a miracle we've gone this far without nobody knowing._

Jon nodded, but he did lean down, kissing Richie deeply, taking a moment to savour every last second. "I don't care what they might think. My parents, my family-they can go cry a river. You, Richard Sambora, are the only person that matters right now." 


	34. Chapter 34

They recorded a lot. 

Hours were spent in that cramped, drafty studio. Trying to make everything perfect, replaying the songs over and over until they repeated on a loop within everybody's head, correcting even the slightest mistake. From early on in the morning to late late at night, it continued on and on. David was well aware that the album had to be perfect because how would they sell if they weren't? But that didn't mean repeating the same keys for a straight hour was any more pleasant. "Just think-" Alec said as he tuned his guitar one morning, waiting patiently for Richie to show up because he'd accidentally set his alarm for later than needed. "-we'll be rich and famous because of this baby." It was like a constant mantra, trying to keep everybody's hopes up by reminding themselves and each other that this would, hopefully, be their breakout album. But along with that optimism was a constant reminder that some bands didn't get famous until their second, or, hell, third. 

Tico was falling asleep, his arms crossed and legs propped, sunglasses fixed firmly over his eyes. Jon was stacking the cereal that he was supposed to be eating. "Do you think Richie purposely set his alarm late because he knows that they won't fire him?" David asked. Alec smirked. "Oh, definitely. I can't blame him. In fact, I should've done that, because I am beyond tired." He glared enviously at Tico, who had succeeded in sleeping and was still, technically, sitting up. "Lucky bastard." 

Doc was pacing. Back and forth, unable to sit still. David would've felt bad, except for what the man had said to him back a few weeks prior. 

He still hadn't forgiven Doc for that and, to be honest, David didn't feel like forgiving. It was unlike him to not forgive people, but it was also a testament to how badly he'd been hurt by what Doc had said. "I hope that he trips." David muttered. Alec looked a little confused but laughed anyways. "You're the nicest guy in this group, Davey. What's gotten into you about Doc?" He asked. 

David didn't answer for a moment. He didn't want to burden his friends with that weight alongside the stress of the album. "He just gets on my nerves." 

Richie appeared, breathing heavily and leaning against the threshold of the door. "Before any of you say anything- I'm very sorry and it won't happen again." He said hurriedly. His dark eyes flicked from where Doc was, to Jon and Tico, to David and Alec. "And I'll pay more attention." 

Jon grinned. "You better. We can't play without our guitarist." 

The total opposite, Doc scowled and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "It isn't too much of a stretch to say that we could very easily replace one of you if we wanted to, just so you five know." He said. There was a clear warning in his voice. Jon whirled around in his chair so fast that it was a wonder that he didn't get whiplash. "First of all, you're not replacing a single one of us, and second, what give you the right, you literal-" 

Whatever he'd been about to say was cut off by Tico, who'd long woken up, grabbing Jon and pulling him away. "What he means to say is that we'll be careful." The drummer quickly said, always the peacemaker. Doc stared at them for a minute, like he was unsure about what to believe. And then he nodded and walked away, "Okay, let's get on with this." 

Tico smiled thinly, a brief moment of peace that was destroyed the minute that their agent turned around and the smile fell away like it'd never been there at all. "Why are you so angry?" Tico whispered. Jon shrugged, "Nobody's being replaced like that." He repeated firmly. "No matter what. The only reason somebody is leaving this band is by choice, by want, and by reason." Jon had that tone in his voice that suggested no argument would be tolerated. Tico squeezed his shoulders, "Well, yes, but calm down a little. I can practically see the steam coming out of your ears."

Richie inhaled and shook his head, "I have a real bad feeling about Doc." 

_Don't we all?_

\----

"Do you think Doc's hiding something?" Richie asked later that night. 

Jon frowned. Leaning into Richie's shoulder, and enjoying the night obviously wasn't going as planned. "Maybe. Do you think we should be concerned about it?" He asked. 

For a minute, Richie didn't answer. And then he shook his head, and started walking alongside Jon, hands entwined in the safety of the darkness. "No. Don't worry about it." 


	35. Chapter 35

1984

\-----

"Guess what?" Jon said, closing the door behind him and falling backwards onto the bed. He was grinning, which was definitely an unusual sight these days. Everybody had been working very hard, which usually resulted in bad moods. Richie looked up from the notebook he was thumbing through, full of half-hearted lyrics and random scribbles that didn't make sense. "The album is ready and you've been waiting for the right time to tell me?" Richie asked hopefully, setting the notebook aside. Jon laughed, "No, but you're very close. According to Doc, we are almost done with the recording part of it...and then we do whatever comes next." Jon motioned into the air. 

"What's left to record?" Richie couldn't keep track of everything. He wasn't organized enough, and was already having a hard time keeping up with his other tasks. Jon hummed, his head dangling off the end of his bed. "Touch-ups. Making it perfect." He replied. 

Huh. Richie had been expecting that it would take longer, but then again, he really hasn't done stuff like this before. "Are you excited? This is, like, a huge turning point. We'll finally get to the place we've been working towards for so long." Jon said curiously. 

Richie thought about it. If luck was on their side, this time in two, or maybe three years, they'd have albums and concerts and their names would be known. They would no longer live in their parents' homes, they would be _known._

And there was no other group that Richie would rather do it with. 

"I can hardly believe it- but in a good way, y'know? This time last year, we didn't even know each other." Richie didn't like thinking about that time. "Now, our album is almost done." 

Hours and hours spent recording, trying to make it all perfect. Even when they were too frustrated too speak, reviewing music sheets and pushing themselves to the very brink. It'd all be worth it in the end. 

Reaching out, Richie offered his hand and Jon took it, their fingers just barely hanging on to each other's by a string, but connecting them physically in a way that they both needed desperately. 

\--

Jon excused himself to go make a sandwich. Richie noticeably brightened when Jon said so, and it took a lot of forcing to squash down the guilt that Jon felt over causing Richie such stress. But, nonetheless, he made his way downstairs, laughing at yet another corny joke that only Richie could make work. 

The farthest 'phone was in the living room, and Jon, keeping a careful eye out just in case Richie decided to go looking for him, quickly put in the number, practically ingrained in his memory from years of reducing it, and listened to the dial tone. 

"What's up, man?" Tico greeted, sounding more cheerful than normal. 

Taking a deep breathe, Jon prepped himself. "Teek, I need your advice." 


	36. Chapter 36

1984

\-----

Talking with Tico, as it always was, had been incredibly enlightening. 

Jon thanked his friend and hung up, feeling a little more reassured. It had given him some confidence, as well. Leave it to Tico to be able to to make your fears disappear so fast that it was like they'd never been there at all. If not for how excellent his drumming skills were, Tico could've easily become a psychologist or something like that. Since Richie was upstairs, probably thinking that Jon had made a grand escape, he hurriedly made the promised sandwich and went back upstairs. Richie was thumbing through an old comic book, and looked up with a smile when he saw Jon walk through the door. "What took you so long?" He asked. Jon sat back down on his bed and folded his legs beneath himself. "I couldn't find the mayonnaise." Jon replied, his lie going unnoticed.

Richie went and sat back down, spinning idly. "I used to have that same comic. Spent hours reading it under my blanket with a flashlight." He said. "I'd spent my whole allowance, just blowing it on comic books. And then I discovered guitars, and my obsessions changed." 

"Let's be glad for that." Jon replied. He couldn't imagine what he'd do without the man opposite of him. "Sandwich?" He offered, holding half of it out. Richie shook his head, going in a full circle and falling silent for a moment. "What were you really doing?" He asked, and Jon paused. 

Okay, maybe that lie hadn't gone so unnoticed. 

Jon took a deep breathe. "It's a suprise. Um, not a bad suprise, but I would prefer it to stay that way for a little while." He forced himself to take a bite. He didn't really need to eat, but it'd given him an excuse, at least. 

Raising his eyebrows, Richie slowly dragged himself and the chair foward. "Can you give me a hint? I won't bring it up again if you do." 

Jon pretended to think about it for a minute. "It's possibly the most romantic thing I've ever done. It's, like, disgustingly sweet." He said. 

"Oh?" Richie stood and then fell onto the bed, "Then I'm looking forward to it." 


	37. Chapter 37

It was a dark and stormy night. 

And horrible for what Jon had planned. 

Yes, storming around and 'pouting' (according to David) wasn't the most mature way to deal with the situation, but Jon had really been looking forward to what he'd planned, and in his defense, the day was already horrible. Doc was being a real pain, and perfecting their recordings had taken much longer than planned. 

Two hours longer than planned, to be exact. 

Everybody was in a foul mood, but none more so than Jon, who had found his place in a corner of the studio and was now sitting there, watching as Doc and Tico became locked in an intense debate about the drumming. Jon wasn't even sure why Doc was so concerned about the sound production, since that wasn't even his job, but that seemed to just be how the man acted- poking his nose into people's businesses. Jon didn't like him, but tolerated him because they weren't exactly in a position to be picky about their agents. 

Now that he was thinking about it, Jon realized that David was very cold towards Doc in a way that he wasn't typically, and that got his guard up. Tico wasn't a typically friendly person, so his indifference towards Doc wasn't notable. Richie was talkative, but then again, that was how he acted toward everybody, even to people he didn't like. Alec barely talked to Doc if he could help it, so there was that. Jon frowned and sunk further into his seat, suspicious. Of what? He didn't know, but there was a deep sinking feeling within him that suggested something big. 

"What's got you in such a mood?" Alec asked in that typically blunt manner of his, pulling his chair so that they were sitting side by side. 

Jon sighed. "Doc. And the weather." He answered. 

Alec nodded. "Yeah. I hate Doc too, but let's ignore that. We're probably stuck with him 'till the end of time, anyways. But why is the weather bothering you?" He leaned foward, as if to catch some secret detail. "I have something planned, and rain isn't in the itinerary." Jon replied. As if displeased, the rain began to pound down even harder.

"What do you have planned?" Alec asked, never pleased to be left out. 

Jon wished he could tell his friend, but knew he couldn't. "I'll tell you one day." He said, and Alec shrugged, leaning against his shoulder casually. "Whatever. I have plenty of secrets. Anyways, since you look so down, I gotta ask- Is there anything I can do to help?" 

"No, but thanks. Unless you can stop the weather, or shut Doc up." 

Alec snickered. "I'm no weather wizard, but Tico does have a shovel in his car." 

\----

"Richie, hold on." Jon barely managed to catch up the the guitarist as he went to go outside, his jacket held over his head down an attempt to keep himself dry. 

Richie smiled. "Hey, there's room for two under here, if you want to come with me." He said. Jon laughed, "I might have to take you up on that. Listen, I wanna show you something, but it's raining too hard and-"

Frowning, Richie tilted his head. "Why can't you just show me now?" 

Jon waved his hand. "It's gotta be in private. You remember that thing I told you about? Yeah, that's it. Listen, tomorrow night, meet me at the park near my house. I got something to show you." 

"Well, finally. I feel like I've been waiting years for this." Richie said, but there was an excited glint in his eyes, and he pulled the jacket over Jon, too, as they stepped outside. 


End file.
